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LIBRARY    OF    THE    COMMANDERY    OF 
THE  STATE  O  F  MASSACH  US  ETTS  MILITARY 
ORDER  OF  THE   LOYAL  LEGION  OF  THE 
UN  ITED  STATES 

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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


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MILITARY  ORDER, 
Loyal  Legiofi.  United  Slates, 

DZC141803 
Commandery  of 

The  State  of  ^iassachusGll-s. 


THE  AID-DE-CAMP. 

A.  HOMANOE  OF  THE  ^^AJR. 


CHAi'lLlL  1. 

IT  was  growing  dark,  and  the  evening  wa3  very  cold.  The  lamps 
were  lit, 'and  the  streets  were  filled  with  an  eager  throng  hurrying 
homeward — Baltimore  always  presents  a  busy  scene  at  dark,  aa  peopl*- 
of  all  classes  and  ages  throng  its  streets,  returning  from  their  daily 
avocations.  The  merchant  and  the  mechanic,  the  professional  mari 
and  the  street  laborer,  the  idler  and  the  man  of  business,  the  million- 
aire and  the  beggar,  the  eewiag  girl  and  the  lady  of  fashion,  represen 
sentatives  of  all  classes,  colors  and  nations  under  the  sun,  fill  the  streets. 
Lurrying  on  as  if  their  lives  depended  upon  their  speed ;  jostling  each 
other  unceremoniously,  and  filling  the  air  with  the  Suimd  of  their 
voices.  I  hav.-  often  stood  upon  the  street  at  the  hour  of  twilight,  an<i 
watched  the  scene  before  me  with  intense  interest.  One  sees  human 
nature  in  all  its  forms,  on  the  thoroughfares  of  Baltimo  reat  this  hour. 

This  evening,  the  fourth  of  March,  1861,  the  sUroets  were  mor.- 
crowded  than  usual.  A  dense  throng  poured  through  Howard  ami 
Liberty  streets,  into  the  great  highway,  Baltimore  street,  and  mingling 
with  the  groups  already  there,  filled  it  to  its  utmost  capacity.  The 
orowd  which  came  in  from  the  Washington  Depot,  was  exceedingly 
merry,  and  loud  and  repeated  shouts  rose  upon  the  air.  There  could 
be  heard  the  shrill  nasal  twanged  voice  of  the  Yankee,  and  the  coar.s.» 
rough  slang  of  the  Western  man.  Around  the  Camden  street  Depot 
all  was  bustle  and  confusion.  The  large  building  was  black  with  peopk. 
and  the  long  trains,  which  were  constantly  arriving  from  Washington, 
discharged  their  passengers  and  swelled  the  crowd. 

It  had  been  a  gala  day  in  Washington,  and  these  people  were  return 
ing  from  witnessing  the  inauguration  of  Abraham  Lincoln  to  the  Pre?i 
dency  of  the  United  States,    Fanaticism  and  sectional  hate  had  suc- 
ceeded in  forcing  an  uncouth  barbarian  into  the  chair  of  Washington. 


8  The  Aid- de-Camp. 

^nd  the  greatest  Republic  upon  which  the  suu  ever  shone,  was  tottering 
to  its  fall. 

Moving  on  silently  and  moodily  through  the  throng,  as  it  hurried 
from  the  depot,  was  a  young  man,  whose  appearance  was  so  striking 
that  one  could  not  help  pausing  to  notice  him.  He  was  of  medium 
height  and  very  slightly  framed.  He  was  dressed  in  a  plain  suit  of 
black,  buttoned  closely  up  to  the  throat,  and  he  wore  carelessly  a  drab 
slouched  hat.  His  features  were  irregular,  but  striking.  There  was  a 
firm,  grave  expression  about  the  mouth,  but  the  keen  gray  eyes  shone 
with  a  merry  and  mischievous  twinkle.  One  felt  at  a  glance  that  hf 
was  far  above  the  average  order  of  men — that  he  was  born  for  distinc- 
tion. The  gentleman  was  Mr.  Edward  Marshall,  a  young  Virginian, 
who  had  been  for  several  years  a  member  of  the  Baltimore  Bar.  He 
was  twenty-seven  years  old,  and  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
young  lawyers  of  the  city.  His  irreproachable  character  commanded 
universal  respect,  and  his  influence  was  very  great. 

Mr.  Marshall  had  just  returned  from  witnessing  the  inauguration, 
and  was  silently  and  earnestly  reflecting  upon  what  he  had  seen  and 
heard  that  day.  He  passed  on  with  the  crowd  up  Liberty  to  Baltimore 
street,  and  tlien  pausing  almost  unconsciously,  gazed  at  the  throng,  as 
it  hurried  on,  filling  the  air  with  its  shouts  and  laughter. 

"Aye!  laugh  on,  ye  besotted  fools,"  he  exclaimed  bitterly.  "Your 
fanatical  blindness  has  ruined  the  country." 

He  turned  away,  and  was  about  to  continue  his  walk  up  Liberty 
street,  when  a  hand  was  lai*i  upon  his  shoulder,  and  a  hearty  voicf 
exclaimed : 

"  Well,  Edward,  my  friend,  so  you  have  gotten  back.  Come  with 
rue,  and  tell  me  all  about  the  inauguration." 

The  speaker  was  an  elderly  gentleman  with  a  frank,  open  face,  and  n. 
cordial,  winning  air.  Mr.  Marshall  recognized  him,  and  took  his  hand 
affectionately. 

"You  startled  me,  Mr.  Worthington,"  said  he.  "I  have  ju?f 
returned,  and  am  in  no  condition  to  go  home  with  you." 

"Nonsense!"  said  Mr.  Worthington,  laughing  good  Lunioredly,  and 
taking  the  young  man's  arm.  "  Nonsense.  You  must  go  with  me 
Mary  will  think  that  the  Abolitionists  have  made  off  with  you,  if  1 
don't  bring  you  with  me.     Come  !  I  will  take  no  excuse." 

And  the  eld  gentleman  bent  his  steps  northward,  leading  the  young 
man,  who  seemed  to  follow  very  willingly  in  spite  of  his  alleged  unfit- 
ness to  do  30.  After  a  little  twisting  and  turning,  they  reached  Cathe- 
dral street,  and  paused  before  a  large  mansion.  They  ascended  the 
steps,  ard  before  Mr.  Worthington  could  apply  his  latch  key,  the  door 

RBQ 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  9 

was  thrown  open.  A  pair  of  soft  white  arms  were  twined  around  his 
neck,  his  lips  were  pressed  by  a  dainty  little  mouth,  and  a  musical  voioc 
murmured : 

"  Welcome,  Papa !     How  naughty  to  stay  out  so  late." 

"  There  !  there  !"  cried  Mr.  Worthington,  laughingly,  as  he  returned 
the  salute,  and  passed  into  the  hall,  "  don't  choke  me,  Mary.  Here's 
a  young  rascal  behind  me,  who  is  waiting  to  come  in  for  his  share." 

The  young  lady  blushed,  and  turned  to  Mr.  Marshall,  who  wa? 
standing  by  the  door,  which  he  had  closed. 

'*  I  did  not  see  you  before,"  she  said,  holding  out  her  hand. 

The  old  gentleman  passed  into  the  parlor,  but  the  young  people  lin- 
gered in  the  hall.  When  they  entered  the  parlor  there  was  a  bright 
color  on  Miss  Worthington's  cheeks  and  a  happy  smile  played  around 
Mr.  Marshall's  lips. 

A  bright  fire  was  burning  in  the  grate,  and  by  it,  in  a  comfortable 
arm  chair,  Mrs.  Worthington  was  sitting.  She  greeted  the  young  man 
rery  cordially.  Mr.  Worthington  had  seated  himself  by  his  wife,  and 
had  drawn  a  paper  from  his  pocket,  and  was  unfolding  it,  while  he  held 
his  feet  to  the  fire. 

*'  Now,  sir,"  said  he,  turning  to  Marshall;  "make  yourself  as  agree- 
able as  possible  to  the  ladies,  while  I  look  over  my  '  Herald.'  Kemem- 
ber,  not  a  word  about  what  you  saw  in  Washington  until  after  supper.'' 

He  then  opened  tis  paper,  and  was  soon  busily  engaged  in  poring 
over  the  long  black  columns  of  news.  ^ 

Mr.  Worthington  was  a  firm  believer  in  fc^  "New  York  Herald." 
Hb  uniform  good  temper  was  seriously  ruffled,  and  his  enjoyment  of 
his  supper  greatly  disturbed,  if  he  failed  to  receive  it  in  time  to  peruse 
it  before  tea.  After  the  cares  and  business  of  the  day  were  over,  it 
was  his  chief  delight  to  seat  himself  by  the  side  of  his  wife  and  read 
the  "  Herald"  until  supper  was  ready.  "  That  Herald"  interfered  with 
2iany  of  Mrs.  Worthington's  plans  for  pleasant  chit-chats  with  her 
husband  before  tea.  I  think  there  are  many  wives  in  the  South  who 
are  thankful  that  there  is  no  longer  a  "  Herald"  to  call  their  leige  lords" 
attention  away  from  themselves,  and  who  remember  it  only  as  an 
unwelcome  visitor. 

Mr.  MarshaH,  whether  in  obedience  to  Mr.  Worthington's  injunction, 
or  the  dictates  of  his  own  heart,  I  know  not,  turned  his  attention  to  the 
ladies,  and  soon  a  very  sprightly  and  interesting  conversation  sprang 
up  between  them.  Mr.  Worthington  would  occasionally  look  up  and  join 
in  it  for  a  moment,  and  then  would  he  again  be  wrapped  up  in  the  con- 
tents of  his  paper. 

Soon  supper  was  announced,  and  a  fifth  party  was  added  to  the 


10  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

gronp.  He  was  Mr.  Cbarlee  Worthington,  the  only  son  and  heir  of 
Mr.  Nicholas  Worthington,  He  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-two  or 
twenty-three  years  of  age,  and  in  all  respects  worthy  of  the  name  he 
bore. 

After  supper  a  visitor  came  in — Mr.  William  Harris,  one  of  the  most 
prominent  citizens  of  Baltimore. 

When  the  family  and  their  guests  were  seated  around  the  parlor  fir 
Mr.  Harris  exclaimed  abruptly,  turning  to  his  host : 

"  Well,  Worthington,  we  are  in  for  it.  King  Abe  ia  crowned  and 
throned  at  last." 

*'  Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Worthington,  smiling.    "  But  I  do  not  envy  him. 

"  Wait  six  months  and  you  will  envy  him  less  j"  said  Mr.  Harris, 
gloomily.  "  There  is  only  one  course  left  for  us  to  pursue — the  Border 
States  must  secede,  and  cast  their  lot  with  their  Southern  sisters  " 

"  But  Lincoln  may  be  more  conservative  than  you  now  anticipate," 
said  Mr.  Worthington,  who  was  unwilling  to  give  up  the  Union,  while 
a  hope  of  preserving  it  remained. 

Mr.  Harris  was  a  thorough  Secessionist.     He  shook  his  head  incr* 
dulously,  and  then  asked  : 

"  Have  you  heard  anything  from  the  Inaugural  ?" 

"  Marshall  heard  it,"  said  Mr.  Worthington,  turning  to  the  young 
man.  "  Come,  Edward/'  he  added,  "  give  us  an  account  of  what  you 
saw  and  he  heard." 

All  eyes  were  turned  upon  Mr.  Marshall,  who  began  quietly : 

"  I  went  over  to  Washington  last  night,  in  order  to  avoid  the  crowd, 
which  I  knew  would  be  on  the  the  trains  this  morning.  I  spent  the 
night  with  a  friend — and  thia  morning  went  out  upon  the  street  very 
early.  The  first  thing  that  attracted  my  attention  was  a  company  of 
soldiers  stationed  on  the  Aveuue.  I  walked  on  and  saw  another  de- 
-tachment,  and  finally  discovered  that  there  was  scarcely  a  square  of  the 
street  that  was  not  guarded  by  United  States  Regulars.  The  tops  of 
houses  along  the  Avenue  were  lined  with  riflemen,  and  detachments  of 
artillery  were  stationed  at  various  points  throughout  the  city.  Happen- 
ing to  know  the  officer  in  command  of  one  of  these  detachments,  I 
approached  him,  and  asked  the  cause  of  this  extraordinary  display  of 
force.  He  told  me  that  fears  were  entertained  of  an  attack  on  the  city, 
or  an  attempt  to  assassinate  the  President  elect.  General  Scott  had 
deemed  it  best  to  prepare  for  the  worst.  It  seems  that  the 'officials 
feared  that  they  would  not  be  able  to  inaugurate  Lincoln  without  the 
presence  of  Federal  bayonets.  Once,  during  the  day,  I  was  standing 
by  General  Scott,  who  was  constantly  receiving  messages  from  all  partf^ 
of  the  city;  and  I  heard  him  exclaim,  in  a  tone  of  great  relief: 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  11 

"  Everything  is  going  on  peaceably — thank  God  Almighty  for  it." 

"The  old  reprobate,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Harris,  vehemently.  "But 
pardon  me  for  interrupting  you.     Go  on." 

"  The  Inauguration  passed  off  quietly.  Lincoln  was  escorted  to  tJfac 
Capitol  by  a  strong  guard  of  cavalry,  and  was  surrounded  by  troopi? 
during  the  Inaugural  ceremony.  The  whole  affair  wore  an  aspect  cf 
force  which  was  painful,  and  I  am  afraid  it  was  indicative  of  the  future 
policy  of  the  new  Administration." 

"  But  what  of  the  Inaugural  ?  Wliat  did  he  say  ?"  asked  Mr. 
Harris,  impatiently. 

"I  hardly  know  how  to  answer  you,  sir,"  replied  Marshall,  hesita- 
tingly. "  The  Address  was  so  ambiguous  and  unsatisfactory  that  I  am 
sure  no  two  persons  will  construe  it  alike.  He  said  that  he  will  take 
care  that  the  laws  are  faithfully  executed  in  all  the  States.  He  added", 
that  in  doing  this  there  will  be  no  occasion  for  bloodshed  or  strife,  unless 
it  shall  be  forced  upon  the  national  authority.  He  will  hold  the  forts, 
and  places  belonging  to  the  Government,  and  he  will  collect  the  reve- 
nue. I  confess  that  [  do  not  like  his  address.  I  think  it  is  intended 
to  deceive  and  trick  the  South.  I  think  he  means  to  try  to  force  the 
seceded  States  back  into  the  Union." 

Mr.  Harris  smiled  scornfully,  and  Mr.  Worthington  gazed  earnesti-y 
into  the  fire,  while  Marshall  continued : 

"  As  for  myself,  I  have  been  greatly  influenced  by  it.  All  of  m/ 
doubts  have  been  dispelled.  What  I  have  this  day  seen  and  heard  in 
Washington,  has  made  me  a  thorough  Secessionist." 

"  Good  !  I  like  that !"  cried  Mr.  Harris,  seizing  his  hand. 

"  I  fear  that  you  are  right,"  said  Mr.  Worthington,  sadly.  "  But 
God  knows  that  my  love  for  the  South  is  not  weakened  by  my  devotion 
to  the  Union.  I  love  them  both,  and  never  desire  to  see  them  separated 
if  it  can  be  avoided." 

"  But  it  cannot  be  avoided,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Mr.  Harris.  "You 
must  be  one  of  us.  Your  true  place  is  among  the  Southern-rights  meu 
of  Maryland." 

"Wait,"  replied  his  host;  "and  if  I  am  more  fully  convinced  of 
that,  I  will  go  over  to  you.  But  not  now."  Then  turning  to  MarshaJU, 
he  asked,  "  Who  are  in  the  Cabinet?" 

"  Seward  is  Secretary  of  State,  and  Chase  of  the  Treasury — ifee 
others  I  do  not  remember." 

"  Seward  and  Chase — bad  men,  bad  men,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Worthing 
ton,  shaking  his  head  disapprovingly.  "  I  am  afraid  they  meaa 
war." 

"  Yes,  and  a  bitter  war,  too,"  said  Mr.  Harris.    "  But  tell  me,"  ^xt 


12  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

continuecl,  addressing  Marshall,  "did  you  see  the  Confederate  Commie- 
siouers,  and  what  did  they  say  of  the  condition  of  affairs?" 

"  I  saw  Mr.  Forsythe  this  morning.  He  says  that  he  and  Mr.  Craw- 
ford will  wait  for  a  few  days  before  presenting  their  credentials,  in  order 
to  give  the  new  administration  time  to  complete  its  necessary  arrange- 
ments. He  seems  to  anticipate  some  trouble,  and  fears  that  the  Federal 
Grovernment  will  not  recognise  the  claims  of  his  Government  to  inde- 
pendence. I  have  not  seen  him  since  the  Inauguration,  but  I  am  sure 
that  Lincoln's  address  must  have  strengthened  his  fears." 

There  was  a  pause.     Suddenly  Mr.  Harris  asked  : 

«  What  will  Virginia  do?" 

•'  Leave  the  Union,  sir,  as  soon  as  she  is  satisfied  that  it  is  her  duty 
to  do  so,"  replied  Marshall. 

"If  she  were  out,  Maryland  could  go  at  once,"  said  Mr.  Harris, 
musingly.  "  I  would  give  worlds  if  Maryland  had  a  Governor  who 
could  be  trusted." 

"  But  surely,  Harris,  Governor  Hicks  is  a  true  man,"  said  Mr.  Wor- 
thington. 

"  I  do  not  think  so,"  replied  Mr.  Harris,  firmly.  "  He  refuses  to 
oonvene  the  Legislature,  because  that  body  will  summon  a  Convention, 
and  he  does  not  believe  that  the  people  desire  it.  He  knows  this  to  be 
false.  From  all  parts  of  the  State  the  people  are  demanding  a  Con- 
vention, and  he  is  daily  importuned  to  allow  us  to  hold  one.  No,  sir, 
he  knows  that  we  are  for  the  South,  and  he  has  us  in  his  power.  But 
^or  the  injury  that  it  would  do  the  cause,  I  would  propose  hanging 
Hicks  to-morrow." 

"  You  are  too  violent,"  said  Mr.  Worthington,  with  a  sigh. 

Mr.  Harris  was  an  ardent  Southern -rights  man.  He  felt  the  justice 
of  the  Southern  cause,  he  knew  the  popular  sympathy  with  the  South 
that  existed  in  Maryland,  and  he  was  anxious  that  the  people  should 
have  an  opportunity  of  expressing  their  will.  He  felt  outraged  by,  and 
indignant  at  the  conduct  of  the  Governor,  which  was  slowly  but  surel\ 
betraying  the  State  into  the  hands  of  the  Federal  Government. 

Mr.  Worthington  was  one  of  those  conditional  Union  men  who  were 
then  to  be  met  with  all  over  the  South.  He  loved  the  South,  and  h'> 
felt  deeply  the  wrongs  that  had  been  done  to  it ;  but  he  loved  th  Union 
also,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  see  it  destroyed  while  a  hope  remained  of 
the  South  receiving  justice  in  it.  Failing  in  his  efforts  to  suve  the 
Union,  he  was  for  immediate  and  final  alliance  with  the  Confederate 
States. 

Mr.  Marshall  had  been  a  conservative  Southern  man.  He  bad  justi 
fied  the  course  of  the  Southern  States,  while  he  had  not  been  averse  to 


The  Aid'de-Camp.  18 

n  re-construction  of  the  Union.  But  now  Lincoln's  inaugural  ha3 
made  him  an  unconditional  Secessionist.  The  ladies  had  beea 
silent,  but  not  uninterested  listeners  to  the  foregoing  conversation. 
.Soon  it  turned  upon  other  subjects,  and  in  a  short  time  Mr.  Harrici 
took  his  leave.  Young  Mr.  Worthington  had  an  engagement,  and  Mi. 
and  Mrs.  "Worthington  took  their  departure  from  the  parlor,  and  the 
young  people  were  left  alone. 

Miss  Mary  Worthington  was,  like  most  of  the  women  of  Baltimore, 
small  and  beautifully  formed.  She  was  a  lovely  girl,  with  a  fair  and 
smiling  face,  and  large  and  merry  blue  eyes.  She  was  only  twenty 
years  old.  She  had  been  engaged  to  Marshall  for  six  months,  and  in 
i?ix  months  more  she  was  to  become  his  wife.  She  was  a  noble,  whole 
Bouled  girl,  and  she  was  proud  of  her  choice.  Well  might  she  have 
been  so.  There  were  few  men  in  Baltimore  more  worthy,  in  every 
respect,  of  a  woman's  love  than  Edward  Marshall. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  make  public  what  passed  between  the  lovers 
after  the  old  folks  left  the  parlor.  I  have  no  right  to  do  so.  Sucii 
dcenes  should  be  kept  sacred  from  prying  eyes.  Though  privileged  to 
remain,  and  hear  abd  see  all  that  occurred,  I  know  that  a  third  party 
is  always  in  the  way  in  such  cases.  Therefore  I  will  follow  the  exam 
pie  of  the  old  folks,  and  will  retire  and  close  the  door  behind  me 


I 


CHAPTER  II. 

OPENED  this  narration  mth  incidents  which  occurred  on  the  even- 
ing succeeding  the  inauguration  of  Abraham  Lincoln  for  purposes 
of  convenience.  The  position  and  the  condition  of  the  country  are 
too  well  known  to  the  reader  to  require  more  than  a  brief  review  of 
iiiem. 

The  secession  of  the  State  of  South  Carolina  had  severed  the  bonds 
of  the  Union,  and,  one  by  one,  the  other  Cotton  States  had  followed 
i:Qr  example,  until  seven  States  which  embodied  the  great  agricultural 
wealth  of  the  country,  had  gone  out  fr  ra  the  Union.  These  States 
had  confederated  in  a  new  Government,  had  created  a  new  nation,  and 
had  assumed  all  the  rights  and  privileges  of  an  independent  Govern- 
ment. The  Confederate  States  had  begun  their  career  with  a  flatter- 
iDg  prospect  for  success  Commissioners  had  been  sent  to  Europe  to 
obtain  from  Foreign  Powers  the  recognition  of  their  independence  and 
separate  nationality.  Other  Commmissioners  had  been  sent  to  Wash- 
ington to  treat  with  the  Federal  Government  upon  terms  compatible 
with  the  dignity  and  interests  of  both  nations.  It  was  the  sincere 
desire  of  the  new  Government  to  avoid  hostilities  with  the  old,  and  the 
Commissioners  who  had  been  sent  to  Washington  were  empowered  to 
treat  with  the  old  Government  upon  the  most  liberal  and  honorable 
tsrms.  From  all  parts  of  the  country  the  Federal  Government  was 
urged  to  receive  and  treat  with  the  Commissioners,  who  reached  Wash- 
ington about  the  first  of  March. 

The  Confederate  Government  had  been  formed  during  the  admin- 
istration of  President  Buchanan.  The  United  States  pursued  a  weak 
s.ad  vacillating  course.  Mr.  Buchanan  seemed  embarrassed.  His 
position  was  certainly  trying,  and  it  would  have  been  well  for  the  coun- 
try had  an  abler  and  a  better  man  filled  it. 

When  the  State  of  South  Carolina  seceded,  the  United  States  held 
Forts  Moultrie  and  Sumter  in  the  harbor  of  Charleston.  A  pledge 
was  given  by  the  United  States  Government  that  its  military  status  in 
that  State  should  not  be  changed.  The  State  then  refrained  from  ma- 
king any  hostile  demonstration  upon  the  Federal  forces  who  held  its 
principal  harbor. 
On  Chiistmas  day,  Major  Robert  Anderson,  the  commandant  of  the 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  15 

Federal  troopa,  dined  with  the  authorities  of  Charleston,  and  lulled  to 
rest  their  suspicions  of  foul  play,  if  indeed  they  entertained  any.  On 
the  night  of  the  26th  of  December,  1860,  he  evacuated  Fort  Moultrie 
ind  threw  himself  into  Fort  Sumter,  an  unfinished  work,  but  one  of 
great  strength,  built  on  an  artificial  island  in  the  harbor.  He  set  fire 
to  the  work  that  he  evacuated,  spiked  its  guns,  and  removed  everything 
that  he  could  transport  to  Fort  Sumter.  The  next  day — the  27th— 
this  was  discovered,  and  Fort  Moultrie  and  Castle  Pincknej  were 
seized  and  occupied  by  the  State  troops.  The  fire  was  extinguished 
•it  Fort  Moultrie,  and  soon  afterward^  the  damage  was  repaired  and  the 
Fort  made  stronger  than  ever.  It  was  expected  that  the  conduct  of 
Major  Anderson,  which  was  in  direct  violation  of  the  pledge  given  by 
the  United  States  would  be  disapproved  by  his  Government ;  but  Mr. 
Buchanan  not  only  refused  to  order  him  to  return  to  Fort  Moultrie, 
but  approved  his  conduct  and  sustained  him  in  it. 

Warned  by  this  breach  of  faith,  the  State  of  South  Carolina  seized 
'jpon  all  the  property  of  the  Federal  Government  within  its  limits, 
'•ausing  a  strict  account  of  it  to  be  taken,  in  order  that  at  the  proper 
time  a  settlement  might  be  made  with  the  Federal  Government.  The 
surrender  of  Fort  Sumter  was  demanded ;  the  demand  being  refasfd, 
ihe  State  collected  troops  in  the  harbor,  and  proceeded  to  make  other 
preparations  to  reduce  the  hostile  position.  After  the  formation  of  the 
Confederacy  the  troops  were  transferred  to  the  Confederate  Govern- 
ment, and  the  works  extended.  The  command  was  conferred  upon 
Brigadier  General  Beauregard  of  the  Confederate  army.  After  the 
■  iccupation  of  Fort  Sumter  by  Major  Anderson,  his  Government  wae 
'desirous  of  supplying  him  with  proviiiocs  and  ammunition  and  of  re- 
inforcing the  garrison  with  fresh  troops.  South  Carolina  very  prop- 
►rly  refused  her  consent  to  this,  and  the  Federal  Government  resolved 
to  relieve  the  Fort  at  all  hazards.  In  January  the  steamer  "  Star  of 
che  West"  was  sent  to  the  relief  of  Major  Anderson,  but  was  driven 
back  by  the  South  Carolina  batteries. 

The  only  places  in  the  Confederate  States  held  by  Federal  troops 
Tare  Forts  Sumter  and  Pickens — the  former  in  ^Charleston  harbor, 
the  latter  on  Santa 'Rosa  Island  in  Pensacola  Bay,  Florida.  The 
troops  assembled  for  the  reduction  of  t^e  latter  Fort  were  commanded 
by  Brigadier  General  Bragg. 

The  administration  cf  Mr.  Buchanan  had  been  urged  to  evacuate 
these  Forts,  and  thus  remove  all  cause  for  hostilities.  This  the  Presz- 
ient  declined  doing,  but  gave  a  pledge  that  the  United  States  would 
io  nothing  to  bring  about  a  collission  between  the  opposing  forccp,  if 
the  South  would  not  force  it  upon  them.     Had  he  withdrawn  his  troope 


16  The  Aid-de-Oamp. 

from  the  Southern  forts,  he  would  have  removed  the  great  evil  whic^ 
momentarily  threatened  to  bring  about  a  war :  aad  it  is  possible  that 
the  war  might  have  been  averted.  But  he  had  not  the  moral  courage 
to  do  this.  He  was  afraid  to  brave  the  storm  which  such  a  course 
would  have  raised  for  the  time  in  the  North  ;  so  he  contented  himself 
with  promising  to  refrain  from  inaugurating  any  hostile  measures,  if 
the  Southern  States  would  do  Ijikewise.  He  doubtless  hoped  to  throw 
all  the  weight  and  responsibility  of  the  matter  upon  the  incoming  Ad- 
ministration. "The  Border  Slave  States  had  held  aloof  from  their 
more  Southern  sisters.  They  symp/ithized  deeply  with  them,  but  wished 
to  exhaust  all  remedies  before  leaving  the  Union.  Already  they  had 
tried  one  expedient — the  Peace  Congress — and  this,  owing  to  Northern 
obstinacy,  had  proved  to  be  a  failure.  They  were  looking  about  them 
for  some  new  remedy.  Such  was  the  condition  of  affairs  when  Lin- 
coln went  into  power.  The  country  was  quivering  with  the  agonies  of 
dismemberment.  The  new  President  had  it  in  his  power,  by  pursuing 
a  wise  and  prudent  course,  to  avoid  a  war,  and  to  restore  harmony  to  a 
great  degree  to  the  country.  He  had  only  to  evacuate  the  Forts,  listen 
fo  the  proposals  of  the  Confederate  Commissioners,  and  if  they  were 
compatible  wiih  the  dignity  and  interest  of  hia  country,  to  entertaia 
them  favorably,  and  to  treat  with  the  new  nation  upon  terms  of  amity 
and  good  will.  Such  a  course  would  have  involved  no  sacrifice  of 
dignity  or  interest  upon  the  part  of  the  Federal  Government.  TL* 
hijstory  of  the  times  will  support  me  in  this  assertion. 

The  Commissioners  from  the  Confederate  States  arrived  in  Washing- 
ton about  the  first  of  March.  After  waiting  a  few  days,  in  order  to  al- 
low the  new  Administration  time  to  complete  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments which  would  occupy  its  time  upon  its  first  entrance  to  power, 
they  addressed  a  letter  to  the  Hon.  William  H.  Seward,  Secretary  of 
State,  setting  forth  the  objects  of  their  mission,  and  requesting  an  in- 
terview with  President  Lincoln.  Mr.  Seward  did  not  receive  them  offi- 
'•ially,  but  promised  a  reply  at  his  earliest  convenience,  and  encouraged 
ihem  to  hope  that  peace  and  good  will  might  prevail  between  the  two 
nations,  and  that  the  objects  of  their  mission  would  be  successful.  He 
delayed  his  answer.  Judge  Campbell,  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
United  States,  consented  to  act  as  a  medium  of  communication  between 
the  Commissioners  and  Mr.  Seward.  On  the  15th  of  March  Mr.  Sew- 
ard assured  Justi:ce  Campbell  that  he  felt  sure  that  Fort  Sumter  wouli 
be  evacuated  "within  the  next  five  days,"  and  that  "no  measure 
ohanging  the  existing  status  prejudicially  to  the  Southern  Confede- 
rate States,"  was  then  contemplated.  Thus  the  Commisflioners  were 
amxwed  and  detained,  while  the  Federal  Government  was  working  i> 


The  Aid-de-Camp,  17 

leTitly,  bat  rapidly.  The  five  days  passed  away,  but  the  Fort  was  net 
evacuated.  Throughout  the  North  extensive  military  and  naval  prepa- 
rations were  begun  and  carried  on  with  great  energy.  They  attracts  d 
the  attention  and  excited  the  alarm  of  the  Commissioners.  Jufctice 
Campbell  mentioned  this  alarm  to  Mr.  Seward,  and  received  from  hha 
the  following  answer:  "Faith  as  to  Sumter  fully  keptj  icait  and  see." 
.This  was  the  7th  of  April.  On  the  same  day,  a  large  fleet,  with  troo{.fl 
and  military  supplies,  sailed  from  New  York  for  the  South.  On  the 
8th  of  April,  Governor  Pickens,  of  South  Carolina,  was  informed  that 
Fort  Sumter  would  be  reinforced  and  provisioned  at  all  hazards.  This 
information,  together  with  the  answer  of  the  Federal  S-Jcretary  of  State, 
dated  nearly-  a  month  back,  declining  to  receive  or  treat  with  them,  wae 
conveyed  to  the  Commissioners  after  the  message  had  been  sent  to  the 
(Governor  of  South  Carolina.  The  perfidy  of  the  Federal  Governmer.t 
was  fully  evident,  even, to  the  dullest  comprehension,  and  the  Coraini*- 
sioners  immediately  took  their  departure  from  Washington. 

Having  anticipated  events  somewhat,  I  must  now  go  back  for  a  brief 
period.  Mr.  Marshall  had  watched  the  course  of  events  with  an  anxiona 
eye.  He  feared  that  war  was  inevitable.  He  distrusted  the  protesta- 
tions of  Lincoln  and  his  Cabinet. 

The  extraordinary  military  preparations  at  the  North  alarmed  hiia 
seriously.  He  saw  at  once  that  they  were  destined  for  the  relief  of 
Fort  Sumter.  They  could  not  be  meant  for  anything  else,  for  there 
was  no  occasion  for  them  elsewhere.  Early  in  April  he  found  it  necta- 
?ary  for  him  to  visit  Charleston,  whither  business  of  importance  called 
him.  After  parting  with  his  friends,  and  premising  a  speedy  return, 
he  set  out  on  his  journey.  He  had  been  furnished  by  prominent  citi- 
zens of  Maryland  with  letters  to  Governor  Pickens  and  General  Beau- 
regard, and  other  distinguished  persons  in  South  Carolina.  He  reach- 
ed Washington  on  the  morning  of  the  6tli  of  April. 

Among  his  friends  there,  was  an  old  gentleman,  who  had  long  enjoy- 
ed the  confidence  of  those  high  in  authority,  and  nearly  every  Presi- 
dent, irrespective  of  party,  sought  his  advice  and  confidence.  He  w.ia 
known  to  be  a  strong 'friend  to  the  South,  and  had  passed  unnoticed  by 
President  Lincoln.  For  that  individual,  Mr.  Wheeler,  for  such  wa« 
the  old  gentleman's  name,  entertained  the  most  thorough  contempt. 

Marshall  never  passed  through  Washington  without  stopping  to  eee 
Mr.  Wheeler.  This  time  he  hurried  to  visit  him,  intending  to  go  over 
to  Alexandria  in  the  afternoon,  and  take  the  evening  train  for  Rich- 
mond. He  found  Mr.  Wheeler  at  home,  and  when  he  told  him  of  his 
intended  visit  to  Charleston,  the  old  gentleman's  countenance  were  a 
look  of  interest. 
2 


18  The  Aid-de-Oamp. 

"  Can  I  trust  you  with  a  secret  that  ruay  involve  the  destiny  of  a  na- 
tion?" he  asked  earnestly. 

Marshall  was  surprised,  but  replied  quietly : 
;  ''You  can,  sir." 

"I  have  lived  in  Washington  for  a  long  time,"  said  the  old  man  ear 
t3stly,  "  and  I  have  seen  the  Government  conducted  by  all  sorts  of  men, 
I  have  seen  much  to  make  me  feel  disgusted  with,  and  ashamed  of  my 
country,  but  I  have  never  seen  or  heard  of  such  villainy  as  the  present 
Administration  is  carrying  on.  All  the  plans  of  Lincoln  and  his  Cabi- 
E3t  are  known  to  me." 

"I  was  under  the  impression  that  you  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
Administration,  sir,''  said  Marshall,  in  great  surprise. 
•  ''You  are  right,"  replied  Mr.  Wheeler  gravely — "But  in  spite  of 
this  all  their  plans  are  known  to  me,  I  will  tell  you  by  what ^  means. 
Remember,  you  are  not  to  breathe  this  to  a  living  soul.  When  Martin 
Van  Buren  was  President,  unprincipled  and  treacherous,  though  he 
was,  he  repeatedly  sought  my  advice,  I  knew  all  his  plans  and  State 
secrets,  and  my  advice  repeatedly  save  the  country  from  trouble  which 
his  rasliness  was  about  to  cause  it.  He  had  a  secret  passage  made, 
leading  to  the  chamber  in  which  the  meetings  of  the  Cabinet  are  held, 
and  communicated  the  secret  to  no  one  but  myself  and  a  third  party, 
vho  has  since  died.  No  one  cho  kno'.vs  of  the  existence  of  this  pas^ 
eige.  I  was  frequently  placed  in  it  by  Van  Buren  to  overhear  the  dis- 
cussions of  his  Cabinet,  in  order  that  I  might  be  the  better  enabled  to 
advise  him.  Buchanan  did  not  know  of  the  existence  of  the  passage, 
and  Lincoln  does  not,  I  am  sure.  He  has  not  brains  enough  to  discover 
it,  and  no  one  could  teir  him  of  it.  Since  the  entrance  of  the  new 
Administration  upon  its  duties,  I  have  distrusted  it.  I  have  used  the 
eecret  passage,  and  have  overheard  the  discussions  of  the  Cabinet. 
They  mean  war  upon  the  South." 

"I  was  sure  of  it,"  exclaimed  Marshall  quickly.  Then  he  added, 
earnestly,  "But,  my  dear  sir,  you  have  sarely  informed  the  Confederate 
Government  of  what  you  have  discovered." 

"Alas!  no!  that  is  my  misfortune,'''  replied  hia  friend.  "When  I 
V7as  made  acquainted  with  the  passage  by  Van  Buren,  I  swore  a  solemn 
oith  never  to  reveal  any  thing  that  I  discovered  by  means  of  it,  at  any 
time.  My  oath  is  still  binding,  and  I  cannot  warn  ajy-frie«d3.'""rkm)"^**" 
of  no  man  in  this  city  whom  I  could  trust.  I  have  lull  conlidence  in 
you,  and  what  I  want  you  to  do  U  to  go  with  me  tonight  and  take  your 
elation  in  the  secret  passage.  To-night  there  will  be  a  meeting  of  the 
Cabinet,  in  which  a  matter  of  great  importance  will  be  discussed.  I 
cannot  tell  you  what  it  is.     You  must  (iiccover  it  for  yourself,  and  thso 


The  Aid-dc-Camp.  19- 

hasten  to  Montgomery  and  lay  the  whole  matter  before  President  Da- 
vis. The  Cabinet  wU  meet  at  nine  o'clock  to-night.  Will  you  go  with 
me?" 

Marshall  paused  for  a  moment  in  deep  thought.     He  was  amazed  by 
what  Mr.  Wheeler  had  told  him.     lie  hardly  knew  whether  to  go  or 
not.    But  the  thought  of  the  good  he  might  be  able  to  do  for  the  South, 
determined  him,  and  he  answered  firmly: 
"  T  will  go  with  ycu." 

"Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Wheeler,  with  satisfaction.  "Be  here  to- 
night at  seven  o'clock.  We  will  start  a  little  before  eight,  in  order  that 
we  may  be  in  time.  You  are  a  lawyer,  and  have  seen  much  of  human 
nature;  but  I  will  show  you  to-night  something  that  will  startle  you." 
Mr.  Wheeler  ^poke  with  savage  bittorncsB,  and  then  abruptly  changed 
the  conversation.     In  a  short  time  Marshall  took  his  leave. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  day  h6  wandered  listlessly  about  th© 
city,  thinking  of  what  Mr.  Wheeler  had  told  him.  It  was  so  strange 
that  he  could  hardly  believe  it.  For  a  moment  he  feared  that  it  was 
some  plot  to  entrap  him.  But  this  could  not  be  so;  for  why  should 
Mr.  Wheeler  wish  to  do  him  any  harm  ?  That  gentleman  had  always 
been  noted  for  his  devotion  to  the  South,  as  well  as  his  unwavering  in- 
tegrity. Strange  as  the  story  appeared,  it  must  be  true.  Besides 
gratifying  his  curiosity,  Marshall  would  learn  much  that  would  be  of 
importance  to  the  South,  and  he  would  dare  anything  to  gain  this  in- 
formation. 

Taking  the  precaution  to  arm  himself,  he  returned  to  Mr.  Wheeler'a 
precisely  at  seven  o'clock  that  night.  lie  found  his  friend  waiting  for 
him.     The  old  gentleman  insisted  upon  his  taking  supper  with  him. 

"You  will  have  enough  to  excite  you  in  what  you  will  see  and  hear 
to-night,  and  I  want  you  to  have  your  head  clear  and  cool,  and  yout 
mind  at  rest  to  begin  with.  A  full  stomach  and  a  clear  head  are  insep- 
arable companions." 

About  eight  o'clock  they  left  Mr.  Wheeler's  residence,  and  proceed- 
ed leisurely  in  the  direction  of  the  y\^hile  House.  Upon  arriving  at 
the  extension  of  the  Treasury  building,  they  left  the  Avenue,  and  en- 
tered the  President's  grounds,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they  were  standing 
in  the  rear  of  the  White  House.  Glancing  hastily  around  to  assure 
himself  that  no  one  was  near,  Mr.  Wheeler  approached  the  house, 
and  drawing  from  his  pocket  a  piece  of  steel,  pressed  it  against  the 
wall.  Instantly  a  small  concealed  door  swung  around  upon  a  pivot,  and 
the  two  men  disappeared  through  it,  when  it  was  immediately  closed 
As  the  door  closed  behind  them,  Marshall  found  himself  in  a  narrow 
passtige  and  in  total  darkness.     His  friend  grasped  his  hand  and  badtr 


20  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

him  remove  his  shoes,  be  silent  and  follow  him.  They  passed  on  swift- 
ly in  the  darkness,  the  young  man  being  led  by  his  friend,  sometimes 
turning  abruptly  and  at  others  ascending  long  flights  of  stairs.  The 
atraosjihere  of  the  passage  was  close  and  confined,  and  quite  cold.  Sud- 
flenly  his  friend  paused.  The  air  was  warmer,  and  Marshall  felt  that 
one  of  the  walls  that  closed  the  passage  was  quite  hot.  Mr.  AYhceler 
placed  his  mouth  to  the  young  man's  ear,  and  whispered : 

"  We  are  now  standing  in  a  small  chamber  constructed  in  the  chim- 
ney of  the  room  in  which  the  Cabinet  holds  its  meetings,  We  can 
hear  the  slightest  sound  that  comes  from  there.  I  will  listen,  but  I 
want  you  to  see  as  well  as  hear.  Remember !  whatever  you  see  or  hear, 
you  must  be  silent.  Now,  look !"'  So  saying  he  removed  the  covering 
from  a  small  opening  in  the  wall  through  which  a  brilliant  gleam  of 
light  came,  and  moving  aside  placed  the  young  man  at  it. 

Marshall  placed  his  eye  to  the  aperture,  and  gazed  into  the  Cabinet 
council  room.  He  perceived  that  he  was  standing  some  distance  above 
the  floor  of  the  room,  ajid  could  look  down  upon  all  that  passed  within  it. 

The  room  was  of  medium  size,  and  simply  but  elegantly  furnished. 
In  the  centre  was  a  large  table  covered  with  papera.  Seven  or  eight 
large  arm  chairs  and  a  sofa  completed  the  furniture. 

Seated  in  one  of  these  chairs,  with  his  feet  thrown  carelessly  upon 
the  table,  with  a  cigar  thrust  between  his  lips,  was  a  tall,  dark-comples- 
ioned  man,  with  heavy  black  whiskers.  He  was  dressed  in  a  plain  suit 
cf  black,  which  but  imperfectly  hid  the  natural  ungainliness  of  his  form. 
His  whole  appearance  was  expressive  of  great  awkwardness,  and  there 
was  about  him  an  air  of  restraint,  which  impressed  the  gazer  painfully. 
There  was  a  dejected  and  careworn  look  upon  his  countenance,  and  an 
eager,  uneasy  gleam  in  his  dark  eyes.  He  was  Abraham  Lincoln, 
President  of  the  United  States. 

Mr.  Lincoln  was  busily  engaged  in  reading  a  manuscript,  which 
seemed  to  interest  him  very  much.  He  was  sitting  with  his  face  to  the 
fre,  and  Marshall  had  an  excellent  opportunity  to  study  his  oounte- 
nance.  He  could  hardly  believe  that  the  awkward  and  ungainly  man 
before  him,  whose  appearance  was  at  once  iiuggestive  of  fraud  and  ig- 
norance, could  indeed  be  the  Ruler  cf  the  American  Republic.  He 
searched  his  features  closely,  but  nowhere  could  he  discover  the  evi- 
dences of  the  genius,  intellect  or  wisdom  necessary  to  enable  him  to 
conduct  the  Ship  of  State  safely  through  the  dark  waves  which  were 
swelling  and  surging  around  her.  The  more  he  looked  at  the  man  be- 
fore him  the  more  he  became  satisfied  that  he  had  been  chosen  only 
that  he  might  be  a  weak  tool  in  the  hands  of  the  wicked  rulers  of  hi^ 
party.     Marshall  became  interested  in  his  contemplation  of  Li.i:coln; 


The  Aid-de-Oamp.  2^ 

and  tiu-.e  passed  rapidlj'  away.  Suddenly  the  President  laid  down  the 
papers  with  a  sigh  of  relief, and  glanced  at  his  watch.  "Five  minutes  t . 
nine,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  did  not  know  it  was  so  late."  Then  gazing  at 
the  pile  of  papers  on  the  table,  he  muttered :  "  Here's  a  pretty  night's 
work,  d — n  the  luck;  I  wish  I  had  never  been  elected;  hut  I  must 
stick  to  it.  Seward  says  we  must  run  the  machiiie  as  we  found  her,  if 
we  bust  her;  and  I'll  do  it." 

Mr.  Lincoln's  manner  was  so  strikingly  ludicrous  that  jMarahall  could 
scarcely  restrain  his  laughter. 

The  President  then  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair,  and  smoked  in 
silence.  In  a  few  minutes  the  door  opened,  and  three  men  enter- 
ed. Mr.  Lincoln  rose  and  greeted  them  with  an  awkward  familiarity, 
and  requested  them  to  be  seated.  They  were  Gideon  Wolle ?,  Secretary 
of  the  Navy;  Montgomery  Blair-,  Postmaster  General,  and  Salmon  P. 
Chase,  Secretary  of  the  Treasury. 

Welles  would  have  been  passed  by  at  any  time  with  a  mere  glance, 
for  there  was  nothing  striking  or  remarkable  in  his  appearance. 

Chase  was  a  fair  specimen  of  a  keen,  shrewd  Yankee  sharper.  The 
quick,  piercing  eye,  the  restless  and  unca?y  air,  the  mocking  and  sinis- 
ter mouth,  all  told  of  trickery  and  deceit. 

JBlair  was  dark  and  gloomy.  A  bitter  and  malignant  expression  con- 
stantly hovered  upon  his  countenance.  His  keen,  observant  eye  was 
upon  every  thing  around  hiin,  and  not  a  look,  not  an  expression  escaped 
his  notice.  Ilig  manner  towards  the  President  was  a  strange  mixture 
of  fawning  servility  and  contemptuous  hate. 

The  three  gentlemen  had  scarcely  taken  their  seats  when  the  door 
again  opened,  and  Mr.  Caleb  B.  Smith,  Secretary  of  the  Interior,  en- 
tered. He  saluted  those  present  with  great  dignity,  and  took  the  seat 
to  which  the  President  pointed. 

The  door  was  again  opened,  and  a  tall,  fine  looking  man,  with  a  florid 
face  and  hair  slightly  tinged  with  gray,  entered.  There  was  something 
decidedly  striking  in  this  man's  appearance.  There  was  an  air  of  de- 
fiant boldness  and  accomplished  knavery  which  at  once  convinced  the 
gazer  that  the  man  was  a  great  villain.  There  v.-as  about  him  a  stern- 
ness and  haughtiness  which  agreed  well  with  his  manly  and  dignified 
figure.  He  was  Simon  Cameron,  Secretary  of  War.  He  was  greeted 
with  marked  respect  by  all  present,  and  returned  their  salutations  most 
courteously. 

*' All  here,  gentlemen?"  he  asked,  glancing  around  the  group.  "Xu! 
where  is  Governor  Seward?" 

"Drunk,  I  guess,"  said  the  President,  with  a  laugh,  in  which ,. ail 
joined.     "That  reminds  me  of  a  joke,"  he  continued.     Suddenly  he 


22  The  Aid-de-Oamp. 

paused.  The  door  was  again  opened,  and  this  time  there  entered 
a  man  who,  having  been  once  Been,  is  not  easily  forgotten.  He  was  r* 
small,  thin  man,  with  a  slight  stoop  in  the  shoulders.  His  hair  was 
gray,  and  lay  in  graceful  confusion  around  his  brow.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  neat  and  tasteful  suit  of  gray.  Every  motion  was  graceful  and 
dignified,  and  his  whole  manner  was  expressive  of  quiet  consciousness 
of  power.  But  what  most  interested  the  gazer  was  the  calm,  cold  face, 
in  which  not  a  particle  of  color  was  visible;  the  keen,  gray  eye,  which 
seemed  to  be  reading  one's  very  soul,  and  the  firm,  grave  mouth,  with 
its  expression  of  energy  and  power.  There  was  something  fascinating 
in  his  appearance,  but  it  was  the  fascination  of  the  serpent,  that 
made  the  gazer  shudder  as  he  looked  upon  him.  One  felt  that  he  wa? 
a  man  utterly  destitute  of  principle  and  integrity,  that  ambition  wa.^* 
his  God,  and  that  he  feared  nothing,  scrupled  at  nothing,  in  his  effort.' 
to  gratify  his  absorbing  pasaion.  He  was  William  H.  Seward,  Secre- 
tary of  State. 

"When  he  entered  the  council  chamber  the  laughter  was  hushed,  and 
ihe  Cabinet  rose  and  received  him  with  profound  respect.  The  Presi- 
dent glanced  at  him  uneasily,  fearing  that  he  had  heard  his  remark, 
and  greeted  him  with  awkward  defference.  Chase  turned  away  to  hidt- 
the  broad  grin  which  overspread  his  features;  Cameron  bit  his  Up  to 
conceal  the  ironical  smile  that  hovered- around  his  mouth;  and  Blair 
looked  on  with  an  expression  of  withering  contempt.  Mr.  Seward  re- 
turned the  greeting  of  the  President  and  Cabinet  with  quiet  dignity, 
and  passing  on  to  the  table,  began  to  look  over  the  papers  upon  it. 

"Pardon  me.  Your  ExcpUency,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  President, 
and  speaking  in  a  tone  of  seeming  defference,  but  which  an  attentive 
listener  might  have  interpreted  as  a  command,  "wc  are  wasting  time. 
There  is  umch  to  be  done  to-night,  and  wc  had  better  proceed  at  once 
to  business." 

The  President  seated  himself  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Cabinet  took  their  places  around  it;  Mr.  Seward  being  on 
the  right  and  Mr.  Cameron  on  the  left  of  the  President. 

All  eyes  were  turned  to  the  Secretary  of  State,  and  it  wa.=!  easy  to  see 
that  he  was  the  master  spirit  of  the  Cabinet,  the  true  Ruler  of  the 
Union. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  began,  in  a  calm,  clear  voice,  "we  have  met  to- 
night to  finish  the  Fort  Sunitar  business.  I  am  informed  by  the  Sec- 
letarics  of  War  and  the  Navy  that  the  Expedition,  which  has  been  pre- 
paring, for  so  long,  in  the  North,  is  at  last  ready,  and  will  sail  from 
New  York  in  the  morning,  unless  the  President  shall  order  otherwise 
The  chief  purpose  for  which  we  arc  asisemblcd  to-night  is.  to  advise 


The  Aid-de-Oamp.  23 

His  Excellency,  either  to  allow  the  Expedition  to  sail,  or  to  counter- 
mand the  order.  Our  decision  is  to  be  final.  As  for  myself,  I  shall 
urge  him  to  allow  the  fleet  to  sail." 

Mr.  Welles  had  listened  attentively. 

"The  position  of  the  Government  is  very  peculiar,"  he  remarked, 
"If  we  evacuate  Fort  Sumter  we  will  create  a  terrible  storm  of  indig- 
nant opposition  at  home,  which  will  overwhelm  us.  If  we  can,  by  any 
means,  induce  the  Confederates  to  attack  the  Fort,  the  Government 
will  be  safe.  "We  can  throw  all  the  odium  upon  them,  and  we  can  po 
manage  the  excitement  and  indignation  of  the  North  as  to  bring  on  ^ 
war,  which  will  result  in  the  utter  extermination  of  slavery." 

"If  the  Expedition  sails  to-morrow,  when  will  it  reach  Charleston  jf' 
asked  Mr.  Blair,  addressing  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy. 

"  On  the  eleventh  of  this  month,"  was  the  reply. 

"Now  I  understand  you,"  resumed  Mr.  Blair,  after  a  pause.  "Your 
plan  is  to  — " 

"  Allow  me  to  state  it  for  you,"  said  Mr.  Seward,  courteously.  Mr. 
Blair  bowed  and  the  Secretary  of  State  continued : 

"A  strong  Military  and  Naval  Expedition  will  sail  to-morrow  morn- 
ing, and  will  reach  Charleston  on  the  eleventh  of  this  month.  A  mes- 
senger has  already  been  dispatched  to  Governor  Pickens,  to  inform  hira 
that  Fort  Sumter  will  be  provisioned  at  all  hazards.  He  will  receive 
this  message  on  the  eighth,  the  day  after  to-morrow.  It  is  certain  that 
the  Southerners  will  attack  Fort  Sumter.  That  work  cannot  b3  held. 
A  few  days'  bombardment  will  reduce  it.  The  sailing  of  our  fleet  wiil 
give  the  appearance  that  we  mean  to  save  the  garrison,  when  in  realitjr 
we  do  not,  as  I  shall  soon  show  you.  The  fall  of  the  Fort  will  arouee 
the  Northern  and  "Western  States,  and  we  will  be  able  to  mould  therrk 
as  we  will.  It  is  necessary  to  sacrifice  the  garrison  of  Fort  Sumter  for 
the  effect  that  it  will  have  upon  the  Free  States.  As  soon  as  we  hear 
of  the  fall  of  the  Fort,  the  President  will  issue  his  proclamation,  de- 
nouncing the  Southerners  as  reheh,  and  commanding  them  to  lay 
down  their  arms,  and  disperse  within  a  given  time.  He  will  at  the 
same  time  call  for  troops  to  put  down  the  Rebellion.  Of  course  the 
Southerners  will  resist,  and  then  we  shall  have  the  war  in  earnest." 

"War  is  a  terrible  thing,"  said  Mr.  Chase,  musingly,  "and  itia  a 
pity  to  embroil  this  country  in  it." 

"Then  we  must  go  out  of  power,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Seward,  sharply. 
"We  must  either  force  the  South  into  a  war,  or  we  must  comply  wit.h 
their  demands.  We  can  drag  the  people  into  a  war,  and  give  them  no 
time  to  think  of  anything  else;  but  if  we  yield  to  the  South,  the  people 
will  drag  us  from  power.     There  is  a  strong  anti-slavery  sentiment  ia 


24  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

tha  country,  wliich  will  sustain  us  in  a  war  with  the  South,  and  we  can 
work  upon  the  Unionism  of  the  people.  There  is  no  retreat  for  us, 
g3ntlcmen,"  he  continued  emphatically.  "We  are  pledged  to  carry  on 
tl;3  war  against  slavery,  and  we  have  tried  the  ballot-box  long  enough 
Y7e  must  now  use  the  sword." 

'•Anderson  don't  like  the  idea  of  relieving  Fort  Sumter,"  said  the 
JVesident,  raising  his  head  from  his  hand  on  which  he  had  been  resting 
it.     "He  says  it's  a  breach  of  the  faith  we  have  pledged  to  the  South." 

*■  Anderson  is  a  fool,"  said  Seward,  contemptuously.  "He  is  too 
punctilious.  But  the  chances  aie  decidedly  against  his  ever  getting 
out  of  his  Fort.  Tlie  more  martyrs  that  there  are,  the  more  successful 
will  be  the  cause.  To  endear  Anderson's  memory  to  our  people,  we'll 
iDike  a  saint  of  him,  by  allowing  Beauregard  to  cannonize  him." 

r 

"  I  see  but  one  difficulty  about  this  war,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  musingly. 
"It  may  drive  out  the  Border  States,  and  then  we  shall  have  our  ham: 
full." 

"We  are  prepared  for  that,"  said  the  Secretary  of  War.  "  We  wish 
to  force  the  Border  States  out  of  the  Union.  We  have  not  calculated 
upon  any  trifling  struggle.  We  anticipate  a  long  and  bloody  war;  on^ 
that  will  probably  last  during  our  entire  Administration.  But  we  must 
deceive  the  people  by  prophesying  a  short  war.  We  will  say  that  we 
will  be  able  to  crush  the  rebellion  in  ninety  days.  We  can  speedily  or 
g.%nize  an  army.  The  nine  Governors  who  have  just  gone  from  W. 
city,  have  promised  us  as  many  troops  as  we  need.  To  keep  up  the  de- 
ception, we  will  call  for  seventy-five  thousand  men  to  serve  for  three 
m  3nths.  After  this  we  will  be  in  a  position  to  call  for  troops  for  year,^ 
instead  of  months,  and  we  shall  get  as  many  as  we  call  for.  The  war 
will  be  long  and  bloody,  but  it  will  be  advantageous  to  us  as  individuab, 
and  in  the  end  we  will  conquer  the  South.  We  have  greater  resources, 
more  men  and  material,  and  we  shall  finally  hold  the  Southern  States 
9Xi  conqiiered  Provinces." 

"I  care  not  for  the  Border  States,"  said  Mr.  Seward  coldly.  "I  am 
ready  for  either  the  Cotton  or  the  Border  States." 

"That  reminds  me  of  a  joke,  Seward,"  said  the  President,  throwing 
himself  back  in  the  chair.  "When  I  was  cap'n  of  a  flat  boat,  I  used 
to  hear  tell  of  a  man  that  lived  down  on  the  Chesapeake  Bay,  during 
tha  war  of  1812.  He  used  to  sleep  with  his  rifle  at  the  head  of  his 
bid,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  the  British  when  they  landed.  One  night 
there  was  a  terrible  thunder  storm,  and  his  wife  woke  him,  crying, 
'V/ake  up,  husband!  the  day  of  judgment  has  come,  or  the  British 
h'lve  landed.'     'Let  'em  come/ cried  the  old  man,  jumping  up  and 


The  Aid-de-Oamp.  25 

seizing  his  rifle — 'Let  'em  come — I'm  ready  for  either.'  So  you,  Sew- 
ard, are  like  the  old  man;  you  are  ready  for  either." 

The  President  sank  back  in  his  chair,  and  laughed  heartily  at  his  own 
joke,  inappropriate  and  stale  as  it  was. 

The  members  of  the  Cabinet  joined  in  his  morrinient.  A  smile  of 
sarcastic  contempt  played  around  the  lips  of  the  Secretary  of  State,  and 
Le  exchanged  a  meaning  glance  with  the  Postmaster  General.  Then 
they  joined  in  the  laughter. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Seward,  when  the  mirth  had  subsided,  "  we 
must  coaie  to  some  conclusion  upon  this  matter.  What  say  you?  Shall 
we  have  a  war  with  the  South,  or  a  war  with  our  own  people?" 

"A  war  with  the  South,"  was  the  unanimous  response.  ' 

"Very  good,"  exclaimed  the  Premier,  in  a  tone  of  satisfactien.  "The 
President  will  order  the  Expedition  for  the  relief  of  Fort  Sumter  to 
sail  atronee.  "When  the  war  is  begun,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  Sec- 
retary of  War,  "we  will  leave  the  management  of  the  military  details 
to  yourself  and  General  Scott,  who  has  kindly  offered  to  continue  to 
command  the  armies  of  the  Union.  Now  that  this  business  is  settled, 
we  have  other  matters  to  arrange." 

Other  business  was  then  brought  forward  and  discussed.  The  Coun- 
cil broke  up  about  twelve  o'clock.  When  the  rest  of  the  Cabinet  de- 
parted, the  Secretary  of  State  remained  behind. 

"Mr.  President,"  said  he,  fixing  his  cold,  clear  eyes  upon  Lincoln, 
"you  are  too  faint  hearted.  You  have  put  your  foot  upon  the  plough, 
and  you  must  not  turn  back." 

"I  know  that,  Seward,"  said  the  President,  moving  uneasily  under 
the  cold,  satirical  gaze  of  his  master  spirit.  "But  I  am  afraid  we  are 
not  doing  the  right  thing." 

"I  tell  you,  Lincoln,  you  are  a  fool.  Of  course  we  are  doing  a  d — d 
rascally  piece  of  business.  But  we  can't  help  ourselves.  So  what  good 
will  your  grumbling  do  ?" 

The  President  laughed,  and  drawing  Seward's  arm  through  his  own, 
said  to  him : 

"You  are  getting  personal.  Come  with  me,  and  I'll  silence  you  with 
a  drink.  I  have  some  prime  old  brandy  down  stairs,  if  the  old  woman 
Laan't  hid  it,  or  Bob  hasn't  drank  it." 

At  the  mention  of  brandy,  Mr.  Seward's  eyes  brightened,  and  ha 
followed  the  President  from  the  room. 

From  his  place  of  concealment,  Mr.  Marshall  had  heard  and  seen 
everything  that  had  transpired  in  the  Council  Chamber.  He  was  be- 
wildered by  the  cold-blooded  plan  of  the  Cabinet.  He  could  hardly 
believe  them  capable  of  such  villainy,  and  yet  he  had  heard  it  from 


26  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

their  own  Irps.  He  turned  to  his  friend,  who  was  standing  quietly  be- 
hind him,  and  said  hastily : 

"Let  us  begone  from  here.     I  want  to  get  out  into  the  fresh  air." 

They  retraced  their  steps,  and  in  a  few  minutes  were  standing  in  the 
grounds  in  the  rear  of  the  Mansion.  They  hurried  into  the  Avenuo, 
and  after  a  rapid  walk,  during  which  both  were  silent,  they  reached  the 
residence  of  Mr.  Wheeler. 

"Now,  are  you  satisfied?"  asked  the  old  gentleman,  when  they  were 
seated  in  the  Library. 

"I  am,"  replied  Marshall.  "I  shall  hasten  to  Charleston,  and  ofiFe.- 
my  services  to  General  Beauregard.  After  Fort  Sumter  is  taken,  1 
shall  inform  the  Confederate  Government  of  what  I  have  heard." 

Marshall  passed  the  remainder  of  the  night  with  his  friend.  The 
next  morning  he  went  over  to  Alexaadria,  and  took  the  train  for  the 
South. 

This  was  Sunday,  the  7th  of  April.  On  the  same  day  the  Expedi- 
tion for  the  relief  of  Fort  Sumter  passed  out  of  New  York  harbcr,  an  2 
sailed  Southward. 


CnAPTER  III. 

> 

MARSHALL  passed  through  Richmond  without  stopping.     He 
was  delayed  for  an  entire  day  in  North   Carolina,  and   did 
not  reach  Charleston  until  the  night  of  the  10th  of  April. 

He  found  the  city  in  commotion.  It  was  agitated  by  the  wildest 
rumors  imaginable.  Troops  were  constantly  arrivinsc  from  the  interior 
f3r  service  in  the  approaching  engagement.  Tlie  determination  of  the 
Federal  Government  had  been  communicated  to  Governor  Pickens, 
and  it  had  become  rery  generally  known  in  Charleston  that  an  attack 
would  be  made  soon  upon  Fort  Sumter. 

As  soon  as  Governor  Pickens  received  the  message  of  the  Lincoln 
'lovernment,  he  communicated  the  information  to  General  Beauregard, 
who  at  once  telegraphed  it  to  the  Confederate  Secretary  of  War,  who 
instructed  him  to  demand  the  surrender  of  the  Fort,  and  in  case  the 
demand  should  be  refused,  to  proceed  to  reduce  it. 

•It  was  expected  th.it  the  fleet  sent  to  the  relief  of  Fort  Sumter  would 
react  the  harbor  Qn  the  11th.  In  all  human  probability  it  would  have 
done  so  but  for  a  storm,  which  delayed  it  some  thirty^six  hours. 

On  the  11th  of  April,  1861,  General  Beauregard  demanded  of  Major 
Anderson  the  surrender  of  Fort  Sumter. 

On  the  day  after  his  arrival  in  Charleston,  Marshall  hurried  through 
with  his  business,  and  when  he  had  finished  it,  called  upon  Governor 
Piskeiis. 

He  was  received  with  great  courtesy  by  that  gentleman. 

"  You  visit  us  at  an  exciting  time,  Mr,  Marshall,"  said  the  Governor- 
"The  next  twenty-four  hours  may  witness  the  opening  of  the  great 
struggle  for  our  independence." 

^'I  have  expected  this.  Your  Excellency,"  said  the  young  man,  "and 
I  have  hastened  here  to  offer  my  services  to  General  Beauregard." 

"I  thank  you  for  your  sympathy,  Mr. .Marshall,"  said  the  Governor, 
grasping  his  hand  warmly.  "  General  Beauregard  will  not  refuse  your 
offer." 

"Will  you  accompany  me  to  General  Beauregard's  headquarters, 
Governor?"  asked  Marshall.  I  have  some  important  information  to 
lay  before  him,  and,  upon  reflection,  I  think  that  you  ought  to  hear  it." 

Governor  Pickens  seemed  surprised,  bat  replied  at  once : 


28  The  Aid-de-Oamp. 

"  I  was  about  to  go  to  headquarters  when  you  were  announced.  My 
carriage  ia  at  the  door,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  take  you  with  me." 

The  two  gentleoien  then  left  the  house,  and  entering  the  carriage 
which  was  in  waiting,  were  driven  rapidly  to  the  headquarters  of  the 
Confederate  commander.  They  were  immediately  ushered  into  General 
Beauregard's  presence. 

He  was  sitting  at  a  table,  glancing  over  some  paper;?,  but  rose  as  the 
gentlemen  entered.  He  was  of  medium  size  and  well  proportioned. 
He  was  dressed  in  the  plain  blue  uniform  of  a  Brigadier  General,  and 
was  scrupulously  neat  in  his  attire.  His  features  were  prominent,  and 
indicative  of  his  foreign  descent.  There  was  much  of  benevolence  and 
good  humor  in  the  expression  of  his  countenance,  and  through  every 
action  there  breathed  a  quiet  dignity  which  at  once  won  the  respect  and 
confidence  of  all  persons.  You  felt  at  a  glance  that  he  was  born  a 
soldier.  It  was  impossible  to  see  him  without  admiring  him,  and  it  was 
equally  impossible  to  know  him  without  honoring  and  loving  him. 
Uniting  that  warm  and  genial  disposition  which  at  once  endeared  him . 
to  all,  with  that  brilliant  military  genius  which  has  ranked  him  among 
the  greatest  Generals  of  the  age,  it  is  not  strange  that  every  Southern 
.iuldier's  heart  should  throb  with  devotion,  and  his  eye  glow  with  pride, 
when  he  hears  the  magic  name  of  Beauregard.  It  is  to  him  the  em- 
bodiment of  chivalry  and  patriotism.  He  greeted  Governor  Pickens 
cordially,  and  that  gentleman  presented  Marshall. 

"Is  my  friend 'well  ?"  inquired  the  General,  when  he  had  read  the 
letter  Marshall  had  brought  from  Baltimore.  "I  am  glad  to  meet  you 
as  a  friend  of  his." 

Marshall  bowed,  and  replied,  that  the  gentleman  was  well  when  he 
left  him. 

"Are  you  busy.  General?"  asked  the  Governor. 

"Not  at  present,"  was  the  answer.  "I  have  demanded  the  surren- 
der of  Fort  Sumter,  and  am  now  waiting  for  Anderson's  reply.  I  was 
about  to  send  for  Your  Excellency  when  you  arrived.  But  why  do 
you  ask  if  I  am  busy  ?     Do  you  wish  me  to  do  anything  for  you  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  the  Governor,  "  but  Mr.  Marshall  has  told  me  that 
he  desires  to  lay  before  you  some  important  information,  and  he  wishes 
me  to  hear  it."  ^ 

"Indeed,"  exclaimed  the  General,  g;i".ing  earnestly  at  the  young 
man.  "Then,  my  dear  sir,  we  must  hear  him  at  once.  It  will  be  eome 
time  before  I  receive^  Anderson's  reply,  and  we  can  listen  to  Mr.  Mar- 
shall while  waiting  for  it.  Now,  Mr.  Marshall,"  he  added,  placing  him- 
self in  front  of  that  gentleman,  "  His  Excellency  and  myself  are  ready 
to  hear  you." 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  29 

After  informing  General  Beauregard  of  his  original  purpose  in  visit- 
ing Charleston,  Marshall  related  all  that  he  had  seen  and  heard  in  the 
Cabinet  Council  at  Washington.  His  auditors  listened  -with  grave 
attention,  frequently  exchanging  glances  of  intelligence.  When  he 
liad  concluied  his  narration,  Marshall  turned  to  General  Beauregard 
and  added : 

"  Seeing  that  war  is  inevitable,  General,  I  desire  to  do^yhat  I  can  for 
the  Sauth.  I  will  be  glad  if  you  will  assign  me  to  some  duty  during 
the  anproaching  bombardment." 

"I  will,  with  pleasure,  make  you  one  of  my  Aide.?-de-Camp  for  the 
the  occasion,"  said  General  Beauregard,  cordially.  "  The  information 
that  you  bring  is  indeed  important,  Mr.  Marshall,  and  I  shall  at  once 
lay  it  before  my  Government."  Then  turning  to  Governor  Fickens,  he 
added,  "  So  you  see,  Your  Excellency,  that  my  suspicions  were  not 
unfounded." 

"  I  am  utterly  amazed  by  what  I  have  heard,"  said  W:^  GoYcrnor, 
''I  could  not  hare  believed  any  one  capable  of  such  diabolical  villainy." 

The  conversation  was  continued  for  some  time  longer.  In  about  an 
hour,  the  Aids  who  had  been  sent  with  the  message  to  Major  Andcr- 
Eon,  returned  with  his  reply.  j^ 

"  What  does  he  say.  General  ?"  asked  the  ^|prncr,  eagerly. 

General  Beauregard  tore  open  the  package,  and  read  aloud  as  followi : 

"  Headquarters,  Fort  Sumiitr,  S  C,  \ 
April  11th,  1861.      j 
"  General  : 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  communica- 
tion demanding  the  evacuation  of  this  fort;  and  tc  say  in  reply  there- 
to, that  it  is  a  demand  with  which  I  regret  that  my  sense  of  honor, 
and  of  ray  obligations  to  ray  Government,  proven:  my  ccmpliance. 

"Thanking  you  for  the  fair,  manly  and  courteous  terms  proposed, 
and  thi  high  compliment  paid  me, 

•'  I  am,  General,  very  respectfully, 

Your  obedient  £er7s.nt, 
{Signed,)  .  IIobert  Ani?xr80N. 

Major  U.  S.  Army  commanding." 

'*  "^Ulo-:  Anderson  desired  us  to  szy,"  said  Colonel  Chestnut,  one  of 
the  aids  who  bore  the  message,  "  that  they  will  await  the  first  shot,  and 
if  you  do  not  batter  them  to  pieces,  they  will  be  starved  cat  in  a  few 
days."  ■        ^ 

General  Beauregard's  face  flushedHpainfully,  and  he  rose  from  his 
seat  and  paced  the  roon'"  nervously. 


30  The  .Aid-de- Camp. 

"  It  is  painful,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "to  be  compelled  to  altacli  a 
brave  man  with  such  fearful  odds.  Anderson  is  a  brave  soldier,  and  h 
is  a  shame  that  te  should  be  sacrificed  by  the  brutal  folly  of  his  Got- 
ernment.  But  if  we  do  not  reduce  this  fort  before  the  arrival  of  tte 
fleet,  we  ij  i:ot  know  what  mischief  our  enemies  may  do  us." 

He  theh  seated  himself  at  a  tab^e  and  wrote  rapidly.  "When  he 
finished,  he  banded  the  paper  to  an  Aid,  saying : 

"  Have  this  telegraphed  to  Montgomery  immediately,  and  wait  foi  u 
reply." 

The  Aid  bowed  and  retired,  and  Geueral  Beauregard,  turning  to 
Governor  Pickens,  continued  : 

"  I  have  telegraphed  Anderson's  reply  to  the  Secretary  of  "War,  ard 
have  asked  for  further  instructions.  1  appreciate  Anderson's  feeiicge, 
und  do  not  wish  to  cause  him  any  harm  if  I  can  prevent  it.  I  am  Eure 
that  the  Government  is  anxious  to  avoid  any  effusion  of  blood." 

"I  honor  you  for  your  generosity,  General,"  said  the  Govc-rnci. 
"  But,"  he  continued,  while  Mr.  Marshall  has  leisure,  wouiil  it  not  be 
well  for  him  to  make  a  written  statement  of  what  he  has  told  us.  We 
can  lay  it  before  the  Government,  and  save  him  tlie  trouble  of  going 
to  Montgomery."  ^ 

"  A  very  good  ideafWfceed,"  e^iclaimcd  the  General,  and  rising  frcn 
Lis  desk,  he  requested  Marshall  to  take  bis  seat  there,  and  write  tbe 
statinnent.  While  the  young  man  was  engaged  in  preparing  the  paper, 
Governor  Pickens  and  General  Eeauregard  walked  to  a  window  which 
commanded  a  view  of  tbe  harbor,  and  conversed  in  low  tones. 

The  day  wore  away.  A  message  was  received  from  Montgomery, 
instructing  General  Beauregard  to  make  a  final  ofier  to  Major  Anderson 
to  refrain  from  any  hostile  measures,  if  he  (Major  A.)  would  agree  to 
evacuate  the  Fort  within  a  given  time,  and  in  the  meanwhile  would  net 
open  his  fire  upon  the  Confederate  forces.  The  message  was  sent  to 
Major  Anderson.  It  was  night  when  his  reply  was  received.  He 
stated  that  he  would  evacuate  Fort  Sumter  by  noon  of  the  l'"ih  ins*. , 
if,  before  that  time,  he  did  not  receive  from  his  Government  coiVLruiling 
instructions  or  additional  supplies. 

"  It  is  clear  that  he  relies  upon  the  arrival'of  the  fleet,"  raid  General 
Hcauregard.     "  We  have  no  alternative  but  to  attack  him.'' 

At  twenty  minutes  past  three  o'clock,  on  the  morning  of  the  Vlxt  cf 
April,  Major  Anderson  was  notifiqd  that  the  Confederate  forces  would 
open  their  fire  upon  Fort  Sumter  in  one  hour  from  that  time.        ^ 

During  the  evening  Marshall  was  made  acquainted  witli  the  otbei" 
members  of  Geperul  Beaurcgard%  staff,  and  several  officer.?  of  di^itini:-- 
tlon.    A  little  after  four  o'clock,  ©n  the  morning  of  April  12th;  18?1, 


The.  Aid-de-Camp.  31 

(Jcr-tral  Beauregard  and  Lis  staff  ascended  the  upper  room  of  his  licaj- 
quarters,  from  which  an  excellent  view  of  the  harbor  could  be  obtained. 
Marshall  folded  his  arms,  and  standing  by  a  window,  gazed  out  upon 
the  darkness  which  enshrouded  everything.     He  had  not  long  to  wait. 

At  twenty  minutes  after  four  o'clock  two  brilliant  flashes  were  seen 
in  the  direction  of  James's  Island,  and  two  heavy  reports  in  quick  suc- 
cession, from  Tort  Johnston,  came  booming  over  the  water.  Five 
minules  elapsed,  and  then  the  gloom  in  the  direction  of  Fort  Moultrie 
■vTas  broken  by  the  fierce  flashes  which  leaped  from  its  ramparts,  and 
the  silence  was  riven  by  the  deep  thunder  of  its  heavy  guns.  Then 
the  batteries  at  Cummings'  Point,  and  the  Floating  Battery  opened 
Sre,  and  the  hostile  fortress  seemed  enveloped  in  a  circle  of  flume. 

"The  war  has  begun,  gentlemen,"  said  General  Beauregard,  grimly. 

They  remained  at  the  windows,  watching  the  bombardment  with  the 
most  intense  interest.  It  was  a  grand  scene.  Through  the  deep  twi- 
light of  the  morning  could  be  dimly  discerned  the  dark  outline  of  Fort 
Sumter,  while  from  every  quarter  around  it,  the  Heavens  were  lit  up 
by  the  lurid  flashes  of  the  Southern  guns,  and  the  deafening  peals  of 
artillery  echoed  and  resounded  heavily  over  the  still  waters  of  the  Bay. 
From  Cuuimings'  Point  and  Fort  Johnston,  huge  shells  leapt  in  u  sheet 
of  flame  from  the  heavy  mortars,  and  passing  rapidly  through  the  air 
v.ith  a  graceful  curve,  exploded  over  the  ramparts  of  Fort  Sumter. 

Marshall  watched  the  scene  with  a  thrilling  interest.  It  fully  equal- 
led all  that  he  had  ever  read  or  dreamed  of  the  fiery  splendors  of  s, 
bombardment. 

The  fire  of  the  Southern  batteries  was  maintained  with  spirit,  but 
Sumter  was  silent.  Marshall  was  surprised  by  this,  and  turning  to 
General  Beauregard,  asked  earnestly  : 

"  Does  Anderson  mean  submission  by  his  silence  ?" 

General  Beauregard  smiled,  and  answered  quietly  : 

"  No  1  Anderson  is  too  brave  a  man  to  surrender  before  he  is  forced 
to  do  so.  He  is  reserving  his  fire  until  he  can  see  our  batteries  more 
distinctly.     He  has  few  resources  to  waste." 

As  he  spoke  the  sky  grew  brighter,  and  Fort  Sumter  could  be  seen 
more  distinctly.  General  Beauregard  gazed  at  it  for  a  moment,  and 
then  silently  pointed  towards  it.  Marshall  gazed  in  the  direction  indi- 
cated by  his  commander.  From  the  tall  flagstaff  of  the  Fort  "  the 
stars  and  stripes"  floating  defiantly  in  the  morning  breeze,  told  that  the 
Confederate  chieftain  judged  rightly.  Anderson  was  silent,  but  not 
conquered 

An  hour  elapsed,  but  Major  Anderson  was  still  silent.  Suddenly 
two  bright  sheets  of  flarae  darted  from  the  dark  embrasures  of  Fort 


32  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

Sumter,  and  the  deep  thunder  of  two  heavy  guns  replied  to  the  roar  of 
the  attacking  batteries.  The  fire  of  the  Southern  guns  grew  hotter, 
but  the  Fort  relapsed  into  its  former  silence.  At  every  discharge  the 
Southern  guns  grew  more  perfect,  and  scon  every  battery  had  the  esact 
range  of  the  Fort,  and  shot  and  shell  fell  rapidly  from  all  quarters  upoa 
the  doomed  fortress. 

The  day  opened  glcomily.  The  sky  was  over-cast  with  htavy  clouds 
and  threatened  rain.  The  wind -howled  mournfully  over  the 'wide 
expanse  of  the  Bay,  and  the  dense  wreaths  of  smoke  hung  like  a  pall 
over  the  scene  of  confiict.  About  half-past  seven  o'clock  General 
Beauregard  was  watching  Sumter  through  his  glass,  fc'uddenly  he 
turned  to  his  Aids,  and  exclaimed  quickly : 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  we  shall  have  it.  Anderson  is  working  his  parapet 
guns." 

Scarcely  had  he  spoken,  when  the  dark  sides  of  the  Fort  were 
wreathed  in  smoke,  and  a  rapid  fire  was  opened  upon  Cummings'  Point 
and  Fort  Moultrie.  Anderson  fired  rapidly,  and  he  iiad  obtained  the 
range,  with  great  precision.  But  his  balls  glanced  harmlessly  from  the 
Iron  Battery,  which  was  the  chief  object  of  his  fire,  and  went  splash- 
ing and  crashing  into  the  marsh  beyond  it. 

A  dill],  drizzling  rain  was  now  falling,  and  heavy,  leaden  clouds  over- 
spread the  sky.  Major  Anderson  continued  to  work  his  barbette  guns, 
until  the  constant  explosion  of  shells  around  him  warned  him  of  the 
danger  of  exposing  his  men  out  of  their  casemates,  and  he  then  with, 
drew  his  gunners  from  the  ramparts. 

A  little  after  eight  o'clock  a  message  was  received  at  headquarters 
that  a  large  steamer  was  seen  in  the  offing.  General  Dcauregard 
glanced  meaningly  at  Mar5,hall,  but  said  nothing.  Later  in  the  day  it 
was  reported  that  two  other  vessels  were  in  sight. 

General  Beauregard  approached  Marshall,  and  handing  him  his 
glass,  said  : 

"  Take  a  boat  and  go  over  to  Cummings'  Poiut,  and  see  what  you 
can  make  them  out  to  be,  and  report  to  mc  as  soon  as  possible." 

Marshall  hastened  to  the  wharf  where  he  procured  a  boat,  and  was 
soon  on  his  way  to  Cummings'  Point.  He  had  to  pass  directly  through 
the  line  of  fire,  and  shot  and  shell  flew  harmlessly  on  all  sides  of  him. 
Upon  reaching  Morris'  Island  he  procured  a  horse,  and  soon  arrived  at 
the  long  range  of  sand  and  hills  which  extend  along  the  beach.  A-i- 
justing  his  glass  he  placed  it  to  his  eyes,  and  gazed  anxiously  seaward. 
Lying  in  the  distance,  apparently  about  four  miles  from  the  shore,  he 
paw  plainly  the  dark  hulls  of  four  large  steamers — two  cf  them  evi- 
dently men-of-war.     He  fielt  sure  that  these  vessels  constituted  the 


The  Aid-de-Camp,  SS 

3,.3vancG  of  the  expedition  for  the  relief  of  Fort  Sumter.  They  made 
no  atteuipt  to  come  in,  however,  but  lay  quietly  in  the  offiug,  watching 
the  tight.  Marshall  made  his  observationa  and  hastened  back  to  head- 
'■juartcrs,  and  made  his  report. 

''Do  you  think  they  will  come  in  ?"  asked  the  General. 
''  They  are  lying  in  the  offing  very  (quietly  now,  sir,"  said  Marshall, 
•  and  do  not  seem  disposed  to  change  their  position,     ricmember,"  he 
added  in  a  low  tone,  "  the  plan  is  only  to  make  a  show  of  assistance 
for  Anderson."  • 

"  True,"  said  General  Beauregard,  musingly.  "  But  they  may  wait 
until  the  rest  come  up,  and  try  to  enter  the  harbor  to-night.  We  must 
guard  against  this.'' 

The  day  were  on.  The  Confederates  continued  steadily  to  pour  in 
their  fire  upon  Sumter,  and  the  Fort  to  respond.  During  the  day,  fre- 
quent showers  of  rain  fell,  but  caused  no  relaxation  on  the  part  of  either 
of  the  combatants.  The  Iron  Battery  was  severely  injured  early  in  the 
day,  and  on^  of  its  guns  was  compell«d  to  remain  silent  during  the 
remainder  of  the  engagement.  Sumter  was  severely  injured  by  the 
fatal  hail  which  was  showered  upon  her. 

At  a  few  minutes  before  seven  o'clock  the  fire  of  the  Fort  ceased, 
•and  soon  afterwards  the  Southern  guns  grew  silent  also. 

As  the  firing  ceased.  General  Beauregard  approached  Marshall,  in 
■ompany  with  an  officer  whom  he  introduced t.s  Lieutenant  Dozier. 

"  I  have  ord*;red  Lieutenant  Dozier,"  said  the  General,  "  to  go  with 
Colonel  Yates.  They  will  station  themselves,  with  several  schooners, 
near  Fort  Sumter,  and  will  keep  bright  fires  of  pine  knots  burning  all 
night,  to  enable  us  to  see  any  vesseia  or  boats  that  may  attempt  to  enter 
the  harbor.  I  wish  you  to  go  with  them.  You  wiU  have  a  rough 
night,  I  am  afraid,  but  you  will  be  relieved  at  daybreak.  You  will 
inform  me  at  ouce  of  anything  unusual  that  may  occur,  and  will  report 
to  me  when  you  come  ashore  in  the  morning." 

Marshall  followed  Lieutenant  Dozier  to  the  wharf,  where  he  found 
quite  a  number  of  schooners  and  small  sloops  collected.  They  went  on 
board  one  of  them,  and  the  littie  fleet  put  off.  Marshall  was  intro- 
duced to  Colonel  Yates  and  the  ether  officers  charged  with  the  duty  of 
sighting  the  harbor,  and  was  soon  Eiade  to  feel  himself  quite  at  home. 
"  We  are  going  upon  a  dangerous  duty,  Mr.  Marshall,"  said  Colonel 
Yates.  "  We  are  ordered  to  station  -ourselves  close  to  Fort  Sumter,  and 
Anderfton  may  at  any  moment  blow  us  out  of  the  water  with  one  of 
his  heavy  guns." 

"  We  must  take  the  chances,  sir,"  said  Marshall,  coolly. 

The  little  fleet  had  scarcely  put  out  from  the  shore  before  the  storm, 


34  The  Aid-de-Camiy. 

-which  had  been  gathering  all  day,  burst  forth  in  all  its  fury.  The 
winds  shrieked  wrathfully  over  the  dark  waters  of  the  bay,  and  the 
rain  fell  in  torrents  from  the  inky  heavens.  The  waves  dashed  wildly 
against  the  sides  of  the  frail  vessels,  and  tossed  them  fearfully  about. 
Yet  they  held  their  course  bravely,  and  soon  reached  the  position  to 
■which  they  had  been  ordered.  The  fires  were  kindled  on  their  decks, 
and  soon  the  bright  flames  of  the  rich  pine-wood  were  sending  their 
ruddy  glare  far  through  the  darkness  and  the  storm. 

Anxious  eyes  were  turned  upon  Sumter,  whose  dark  outline  was 
revealed  by  the  red  light  of  the  flames.  The  vessels  lay  at  the  mercy 
of  the  Federal  commander.  At  any  time  he  might  sink  them  with  his 
heavy  guns.  Fortunately  he  did  not  take  advantage  of  his  oppor- 
tunity, and  the  Fort  remained  silent. 

Sheltered  from  the  fierce  storm  in  the  cabin  of  the  schooner,  Mar- 
shall entered  into  conversation  with  the  officers  with  whom  he  had  been 
thrown.  He  was  delighted  with  them.  All  were  true  and  chivalrous 
Southern  men.  Each  one  expressed  keen  regret  at  being  compelled  to 
attack  the  gallant  commander  and  garrison  of  Fort  Sumter.  The 
events  of  the  day  were  discussed,  each  person  having  something  new 
and  interesting  to  relate. 

"  Did  you  hear  any  estimate  of  our  loss  before  you  left  headquarters  V 
asked  Colonel  Yates,  addressing  Marshall. 

"At  the  last  accounts,  we  had  not  lost  a  man,"  was  the  reply. 

A  murmur  of  surprise  ran  around  the  group. 

"  It  is  almost  incredible,"  said  Colonel  Yates.  '•'  Anderson's  men 
are  splendid  artillerists.  I  remember  an  incident  that  occurred  a  few 
weeks  ago.  Our  gunners  at  the  Point  Battery  had  act  up  a  hogshead 
in  the  bay  for  a  target,  and  were  firing  at  it.  They  fired  about  twenty 
shots  without  hitting  it.  Suddenly  a  gun  was  run  out  and  fired  from 
one  of  the  casemates  of  Fort  Sumter,  and  in  a  moment  more  the  pieces 
of  the  hogshead  were  floating  about  the  bay.  Anderson  had  hit  it  at 
the  first  fire.  If  we  have  escaped  unhurt,  we  owe  it  to  the  special 
interposition  of  Providence." 

"You  are  right,  sir,"  said  Marshall.  "I  would  like  to  know  if 
Anderson  has  suffered  any  less." 

"I  am  afraid  he  has,"  said  Colonel  Yates.  "  Almost  every  one  of 
our  shots  took  eff"ect.  If  he  has  sustained  no  loss,  his  escape  will  be 
even  more  miraculous  than  our  own.  Of  one  thing  I  am  sure.  If  the 
2f  ankee  vessels  attempt  to  enter  the  harbor  to-night,  we  shall  have  bloody 
work." 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  they  will  attemptUo  enter  the  harbor  to-night," 
said  Marshall.    "They  are  too  well  aware  of  the  consequences  to 


The  Aid-de-Camp. 


9r> 


venture  upon  such  a  desperate  undertaking.     Besides  this,  the  stora 
-vill  be  an  excellent  excuse  for  their  remaining  outside  of  the  bay." 

The  conversation  was  continued  until  late  at  night.  No  signs  of  the 
Federal  fleet  could  be  seen  ;  and  -sreary  with  the  excitement  and  fatigue 
of  the  previous  twenty-four  hours,  Marshall  threw  himself  down  upoa 
a  bench  in  the  cabin,  and  soon  fell  asleep.  The  storm  continued  until 
nearly  morning,  when  it  died  away. 

During  the  night  the  mortar  batteries  continued  to  fire  shells  at 
regular  intervals;  and  the  troops  spent  the  night  in  repairing  and 
strengthening  their  works. 

3Iarshall  was  awakened  about  daybreak  by  Lieutenant  Dozier,  who 
informed  him  that  it  was  light,  and  that  the  vessels  were  returning  to 
the  city.  He  sprang  up  hurriedly  and  went  on  deck.  The  storm  had 
died  away,  and  there  was  every  indication  of  a  clear  sunrise.  As  the 
vessels  reached  the  wharf,  Marshall  bade  a  hurried  adieu  to  his  friende 
of  the  night  before,  and  hastened  to  General  Beauregard's  headquarter. 
As  he  stepped  ashore  the  sua  rose  rt^ajestically  out  of  the  ocean,  and 
his  brilliant  rays  scattered  the  clouds  over  the  heavens. 

From  the  Southern  batteries  the  effect  of  the  previous  day's  bom- 
bardment upon  Sumter  were  distinctly  visible.  Thi  parapet  walls 
had  been  battered  away,  several  breaches  had  bee«  made  in  the  sidea 
of  the  fort,  and  the  embrasures  were  greatly  torn  and  injured,  and  the 
roofs  of  the  houses  were  in  ruins.  As  the  iroops  noticed  these  efecte 
of  their  work,  loud  and  enthusiastic  cheers  rang  along  the  shore,  and 
the  guns  again  commenced  their  fearfWi  thunder. 

Marshall  reached  General  Beaujpegard's  headquarters,  and  made  his 
report. 

''  I  have  just  learned  that  several  other  vessels  have  appeared  off 
the  harbor,"  said  the  General  to  him ;  "  but  they  do  not  seem  at  all  dis- 
posed to  come  in.  I  believe  now  that  you  were  right  yesterday.  This 
Sect  is  only  for  a  show  of  relief.  A  brave  man  is  to  be  sacrificed  in 
crder  to  enable  the  villains  who  control  him  to  stir  up  a  war."  Aa 
expression  of  pain  passed  over  his  ncble  features,  and  he  murmured  to 
himself:  " Poor  Anderson — poor  fellow." 

At  seven  o'clock  Sumter  re-opened  its  fire,  this  time  directing  a 
heavy  cannonade  upon  Fort  Moultrie,  which  returned  shot  for  shot.  A 
little  before  eight  o'clock.  General  Beauregard  directed  Marshall  to 
^ake  a  boat  and  go  down  the  bay  to  the  Floating  Battery.  "  I  have 
:  ecn  informed,"  he  continued,  "  that  it  was  struck  several  times  during 
the  engagement  of  yesterday,  and  I  am  anxious  to  know  whether  it  is 
damaged,  and  to  what  extent.  Obtain  from  Captain  Hamilton  a  state. 
znent  of  its  condition;  and  report  to  me  as  soon  as  possible." 


96  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

■  Karehall  hastened  to  the  wharf,  where  he  procured  a  boat.  He 
Heated  himself  in  the  bow,  and  the  boat  shot  out  from  the  shore.  After 
getting  fairly  out  into  the  bay,  the  rowers  made  slow  progress.  There 
waB  a  heavy  ground  swell  still  agitating  the  water,  and  the  little 
boat  went  slowly  over  the  waves.  Her  situation  was  perilous  in  the 
extreme.  She  was  between  the  fire  of  friends  and  foes,  and  any 
cJiance  shot  might  strike  her.  During  her  passage  stirring  events- 
transpired. 

At  eight  o'clock  Fort  Moultrie  began  to  fire  hot  shot,  to  set  fire  ta 
Fort  Sumter.  At  ten  minutes  after  eight  a  thick,  heavy  column  of 
black  smoke  rose  slowly  from  the  walls  of  the  hostile  fortreas,  and  soon 
"tlie  bright,  red  flames  were  seen  leaping  above  the  ramparts.  Fort 
fiumter  was  on  fire.  Loud  and  thrilling  cheers  I'ang  along  the  shorem- 
an d  the  bombardment  now  grew  hotter  and  fiercer  than  ever.  The 
wind  was  blowing  from  the  west,  and  driving  the  smoke  across  the  Fort 
icto  the  casemates  where  the  gunners  were  at  work,  and  issuing  in 
denhe  volumes  from  the  port-holes.  Major  Anderson  now  rained  -a 
fearful  Lre  upon  Fort  Moultrie;  and  the  combat  between  the  two  fort^ 
.waa  terrific. 

-  During  all  tKig  time  the  little  boat  had  passed  safely  through  the' 
line  of  fire,  and  re&r»hed  the  Floating  Battery.  Marshall  sprang  lightly 
on.  board  of  it.  Capti*m  Hamilton  met  him,  and  he  delitered  CheneraJ 
Boauregard's  message  and  received  the  Captain's  reply. 

"Look  !  Mr.  Marshall,"  cried  Captain  Hamilton,  pointing  to  Fort 
^Timter,  from  which  large  columns  of  smoke  were  rising.  "Anderson 
%B  behaving  splendidly.  That  smoke  must  be  terrible  upon  his  men, 
but  he  fights  like  a  hero  yet." 

The  gunners  at  the  Floating  Battery  .watched  with  great  interest  the- 

'bercic  efforts  of  Anderson  and  bis  men.;  and  as  that  officer,  under 

tliese  trying  circumstances,  continued  to  pour  in  his  fire,  one  of  the 

Ken  sprang  upon  a  gun,  and  waving  his  hat,  cried  enthusiastically : 

''Three  cheers  for  Major  Anderson  !"     They  were  given  with  a  will. 

"  You  see  that  we  can  admire  bravery  even  in  an  enemy,"  said' 
Captain  Hamilton,  with  a  proud  smile. 

"  I  am  proud  to  be  a  witness  to  such  generosity.  Captain,"  said  Mar- 
shall, grasping  his  hand.     "  Your  guns  have  done  good  work.     I  must' 
'  return  to  headquarters.     Farewell,  sir." 

So  saying  he  returned  to  his  boat,  and  put  back  to  Charleston. 

In  a  few  minutes  after  he  left  the  Foating  Battery,  he  glanced  at 

Uie  fort.     The  flames  seemed  to  be  abating.     He  turned  to  look  at  Fort 

M^oultrie,  when  he  was  startled  by  a  tremendous  explosion  in  the  direc- 

iion  of  Sumter.     He  turned  and  saw  a  dense  cloud  of  white  smoky 


The  Aid-dc-Camp.  37 

rising  above  the  ramparts  of  the  fort.  A  portion  of  the  ammunitic* 
had  exploded  in  Fort  Sumter,  and  the  flames  now  sprang  up  Tr'.tK 
increased  fury.  When  Marshall  reached  the  shore  it  seemed  that  the 
■whole  fort  was  on  fire,  and  he  shuddered  at  the  thought  that  the  br^ve 
garrison  might  perish  in  the  flames.  He  at  once  repaired  to  hea(i- 
•quarters  and  reported  the  condition  of  the  battery. 

The  flames  continued  to  rage  fearfully  within  the  walls  of  I'ort 
Sumter,  and  soon  the  guns  were  silent.  Major  Anderson  and  hia  ractt 
were  suflFering  terribl/.  The  smoke  was  densely  packed  in  the  caee- 
mates  of  the  fort,  and  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  work  the  guna. 
Several  times  they  were  compelled  to  lie  flat  upon  their  faces  in  orcJet 
to  escape  suffocation.  But  still  the  brave  garrison  held  out.  At  a 
quarter  to  one  o'clock  the  United  States  flag  was  shot  away.  General 
Beauregard  now  sent  Colonels  Lee,  Pryor,  and  Miles,  in  a  boat,  witb 
offers  of  assistance,  if  the  garrison  should  be  unable  to  escape  the 
flames.  At  the  same  time  a  small  boat  containing  Colonel  "WigfuUj 
another  Aid,  put  off  from  Cummings'  Point,  bearing  a  flag  of  truce. 

The  Federal  flag  soon  re-appeared  on  the  walls.  Colonel  Wig  full 
reached  the  fort,  and  entered  through  a  port-hole.  He  assured  Majot 
Anderson  that  he  had  done  his  duty  as  a  brave  man,  and  urged  him 
to  surrender,  to  save  his  men.  Major  Anderson  finally  consented,  aud 
the  stars  and  stripes  were  hauled  down. 

In  the  meanwhile,  seeing  that  the  flames  did  not  abate,  Generul 
Beauregard  ordered  Marshall  to  take  a  fire-engine  and  go  on  a  steamor, 
which  was  in  readiness,  to  Sumter,  and  render  any  assistance  which 
the  garrison  might  need.  He  did  so,  and  reached  the  fort  just  ae  the 
surrender  was  made. 

AVhen  he  entered  the  fort,  he  found  Colonels  Wigfall,  Lee,  Pryof, 
Miles,  Manning  and  Chestnut,  of  General  Beauregard's  staff,  preetnt 
Major  Anderson  was  standing  with  his  arms  folded,  leaning  againet  a 
broken  gun  carriage. 

His  face  was  pale  and  careworn,  and  his  head  was  bent  in  prcud 
dejection.     Near  him  his  officers  were  standing  in  silence. 

Marshall  saluted  the  party  and  delivered  the  orders  with  which  h« 
had  been  charged. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Colonel  Wigfall,  turning  to  the  group,  "  Mnjor 
Anderson  has  consented  to  surrender  the  fort  unconditionally." 

Major  Anderson  raised  his  head  and  said,  calmly: 

"  I  have  done  my  duty.  It  is  useless  to  attempt  to  hold  the  ft  ri 
longer.  I  cannot,  and  will  net,  sacrifice  my  men.  General  Beaure- 
gard will  impose  the  conditions.     We  must  accept  what  he  offers." 

He  bowed  his  head  in  proud  resignation.     His  hearers  were  deeply 


36  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

tQuched.     Tbey  admired  his  gallant  conduct,  and  sympatbized  witli 
him  in  his  misfortunes. 

''  Fear  not,  sir,"  said  Colonel  Wigfall,  kindly,  "  General  Beauregard 
knows  how  to  honor  a  brave  man.  You  have  done  your  duty  nobly, 
and  we  admire  you  for  it." 

Major  Anderson's  lips  quivered  with  grateful  emotion,  and  he  bowed 
in  silence. 

The  scene  that  presented  itself  within  the  fort,  was  one  of  great 
interest.  The  flames  were  still  unextinguished.  The  walls  were 
blackened  by  smoke  and  riddled  by  shot  and  shell.  Large  masses  of 
brick  and  mortar  were  scattered  through  the  yard,  and  fragments  of 
shells  lay  thickly  on  all  sides.  Broken  carriages  and  dismounted  guns 
lay  along  the  shattered  ramparts.  The  barracks  were  in  ruins,  and  in 
many  places  still  burning.  It  seemed  as  if  the  spirits  of  ruin  and 
devastation  had  been  at  work  in  the  captured  fortress. 

Strange  to  relate,  not  a  man  of  the  garrison  had  been  hurt,  and  no 
o^e  was  injured  among  the  Confederate  troops. 

Other  officers  of  General  Beauregard's  staff  having  been  charged 
with  the  duty  of  arranging  the  terms  of  the  surrender,  Marshall  re- 
turned to  headquarters. 

As  Colonel  Wigfall  had  promised,  General  Beauregard  allowed 
Major  Anderson  to  surrender  on  the  most  generous  terms.  He  per- 
mitted him  to  depart  with  all  company  arms  and  property,  and  all 
private  property.  He  afforded  hirz  every  facility  for  the  removal  of 
his  command,  and  allowed  him  to  salute  the  flag  that  he  had  so  gal- 
lantly defended  before  lowering  it. 

The  steamer  Isabel  was  placed  at  the  service  of  Major  Anderson, 
and  General  Beauregard  desired  Marshall  to  accompany  the  boat  and 
see  the  Major  and  his  command  on  board  cf  the  Federal  fleet  outside 
of  the  harbor. 

The  next  day,  (April  14th,)  at  nine  o'clock,  Marshall  reported  to 
Xajor  Anderson.  Arrangements  with  the  commander  of  the  fleet,  to 
remove  the  gairison,  had  been  made  earlier  in  the  morning. 
2  A  little  before  nooij  Major  Andereon  and  his  men  marched  out  of 
the  fort  to  the  tune  of  "  Yankee  Doodle,"  and  went  on  board  of  the 
laabel.  They  were  all  in  full  unifor::-,  and  carried  tbeir  arms.  A 
detachment  was  then  sent  to  the  fort  to  salute  and  lower  the  flag. 

When  the  salute  began,  Major  Anderson  was  standing  on  the  dock  of 
the  Isabel,  gazing  sadly  at  the  flag  wlich  was  flying  from  the  ramparts. 
>!arshall  approached  him  and  asked  :  '■  How  many  guns  will  be  flrcd, 
Major;  twenty-one?" 


'The  Aid-de-Camp.  39 

"  No,'"'  replied  Anderson,  in  a  quivering  voice ;  "  one  hundred,  and 
those  are  scarcely  enough." 

The  gallant  soldier's  breast  heaved  with  emotion,  and  turning  away 
he  burst  into  tears. 

At  the  discharge  of  the  seventeenth  gun,  a  caisson  exploded,  killing 
one  man  and  wounding  five  others  of  Major  Anderson's  command.  A 
minister  was  sent  for,  and  the  unfortunate  man  buried  on  the  spot 
where  he  had  fallen.  A  volley  was  fired  over  his  grave,  the  flag  was 
lowered,  and  the  garrison  was  transferred  to  the  Isabel.  The  moorings 
were  cast  off,  and  the  steamer  started  down  the  bay.  Marshall  stood 
on  the  deck  watching  the  fort.  In  a  few  moments  deafening  peals  of 
artillery  were  heard  in  that  direction,  aecompaineJ  by  wild  and  thril- 
ling cheers  from  the  troops  along  the  shore  and  the  persons  on  the 
various  kinds  of  water-craft  that  lined  the  harbor.  The  flags  of  tho 
Confederate  States  and  the  State  of  South  Carolina  ascended  together 
and  waved  proudly  in  the  air. 

The  Isabel  sped  rapidly  down  the  bay,  and  passed  out  to  sea.  In 
about  an  hour  she  was  alongside  of  the  Powhatan,  the  flag-ship  of  the 
squadron.  As  the  steamer  was  made  fast  to  the  frigate,  Major  Ander- 
son approached  Marshall,  and  taking  his  hand,  pressed  it  in  silence. 
He  then  ascended  the  side  of  the  ship.  Captain  Gillis,  the  commander 
of  the  expedition,  met  him  at  the  gangway,  and  extended  his  hand  to 
bira.  The  gallant  soldier  barely  touched  it,  and  immediately  turned 
his  back  upon  him.  He  felt  nothing  but  contempt  for  the  cowarJs  who 
had   left  him  to  his  fate. 

He  had  done  his  duty.  Alas !  that  he  should  ever  have  sullied  the 
proud  name  that  he  won  at  Sumter,  by  his  slavish  adhesion  to  a  cause 
that  his  better  nature  must  have  abhorred. 

When  Major  Anderson's  men  were  safely  on  "board  the  Powhatan, 
the  Isabel  returned  to  Charleston.  As  she  passed  Fort  Sumter  the 
crew  gave  three  cheers,  which  were  heartily  responded  to  by  the  new 
garrbon. 

Marshall  felt  satisfied  there  would  be  no  further  hostilities  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Charleston,  and  he  determined  to  return  home  at 
once.  He  knew  that  the  war  was  inevitable,  and  that  it  would  affect 
Maryland  very  seriously,  and  he  was  anxious  to  play  his  part  in  what- 
ever should  happen  there. 

He  waited  on  General  Bearuregard  and  Governor  Pickens,  and  took 
leave  of  them.  These  gentlemen  thanked  him  cordially  for  his  services, 
and  expressed  their  best  wishes  for  his  future  welfare.  lie  returned  to 
his  hotel,  and  the  nest  morning  saw  him  on  his  way  to  Maryland. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  fall  of  Forfc  Sumter  created  a  profound  sensation  througliout  the 
entire  country,  both  North  and  South.  In  the  North  it  kindled  the 
fierce  fires  of  revenge  and  prepared  the  public  mind  for  civil  war.  The 
Cabinet  ministers  of  President  Lincoln  were  not  mistaken  in  their  cal- 
culations of  its  efi'ect  upon  the  North.  The  anti-alavery  element  of 
that  section  was  wrought  up  to  madness  by  it,  and  eagerly  seized  upon 
it  as  a  pretext  for  war.  The  conservative  portion  viewing  the  attack 
as  an  insult  to  the  nation,  and  an  assault  upon  its  rights,  clamored 
loudly  for  vengeance.  The  whole  North  was  in  a  fever.  Eeason  seem- 
ed dethroned,  and  madness  ruled  the  hour. 

The  news  was  received  by  President  Lincoln  and  his  Cabinet  with 
great  coolness.  They  had  expected  it.  The  first  part  of  their  fiendish 
programme  had  succeeded  admirably,  and  the  condition  of  the  public 
mind  was  favorable  to  the  success  of  the  remainder.  Artfully  pretend- 
ing to  be  alarmed  for  the  safety  of  "  the  Union,  the  Constitution,  the 
Flag,  and  the  Capital,"  the  President,  in  accordance  with  the  plan 
already  mentioned,  on  the  15th  of  April,  1861,  issued  his  proclama- 
tion, declaring  that  combinations  of  men  to  resist  the  execution  of  the 
laws  existed  in  the  seceded  States,  too  powerful  to  be  resisted  by  the 
ordinary  civil  methods,  anJ  he,  therefore,  called  upon  the  States  tc 
furnish  a  force  of  seventy-five  thousand  men  to  suppress  these  combi- 
nations. He  stated  that  the  first  service  which  these  troops  would  be 
called  upon  to  perform,  would  be  to  repossess  the  forts  and  other  prop- 
erty taken  from  the  United  States ;  and  he  commanded  the  persons 
forming  the  combinations  to  which  he  had  referred,  to  lay  down  their 
arms  and  return  to  their  homes  within  twenty  days  from  that  date. 
This  proclamation  would  hrve  been  simply  ridiculous,  but  for  the  grave 
issues  which  it  involved.  It  was  in  fact  a  declaration  of  war  against 
the  South. 

In  accordance  with  the  plan  concerted  with  the  Governors  of  the 
Free  States,  troops  were  raised  instantly.  The  scum  of  the  North  and 
West  was  mustered  into  the  Federal  regiments.  Mobs  held  possession  of 
all  the  large  cities,  compelling  all  persons  suspected  of  friendship  for 


Tlie  Aid-de-Camp.  41 

the  South,  to  bow  to  their  dictates  and  give  proof  of  their  loyalty  to 
the  Union.  The  President  and  Cabinet  artfully  kept  alive  and  nour- 
ished the  flames  of  Northern  wrath.  The  people  were  completely 
blinded,  and  their  llulcrs  led  them  where  they  wished. 

In  the  South  the  fall  of  Fort  Sumter  was  hailed  as  a  glorious  tri- 
umph. The  people  were  aroused  by  it,  and  the  proclamation  of  Iresi- 
dent  Lincoln,  which  followed  in  quick  succession,  opened  their  eyes  to 
a  sense  of  their  danger. 

The  Confederate  Government  now  began  to  act  with  energy.  Presi- 
dent Davis  called  upon  the  Provisional  Congress  to  assemble  at  once; 
and  issued  his  call  for  troops  for  the  defence  of  the  country.  All  over 
the  South  it  was  responded  to  with  spirit.  Such  an  army  as  that  which 
assembled  for  the  defence  of  the  South,  the  world  never  saw  before. 
The  Merchant,  the  Mechanic,  the  Planter,  the  Laborer,  the  Millionaire 
and  the  Poor  Man,  all  classes,  all  ages,  contributed  liberally  to  swell  its 
ranks.  The  learned  professions  of  law,  medicine,  science,  and  even 
divinity  yielded  up  their  votaries,  and  in  the  ranks  of  the  Confederate 
army  might  be  found  the  true  worth  and  nobility  of  the  South. 

All  eyes  were  turned  to  the  Border  Slave  States.  They  were  still  in 
the  Union,  and  had  been  called  upon  to  furnish  troops  for  the  Federal 
army.  Would  they  do  so  ?  The  issue  was  no  longer  between  Union 
and  Secession,  but  between  North  and  South.  The  Border  States  at 
once  refused  to  aid  Lincoln  in  his  unholy  war  upon  the  South,  and, 
with  the  exception  of  Maryland  and  Kentucky,  inaugurated  measures 
which  pointed  to  their  immediate  secession,  and  union  with  the  Con- 
federacy. 

Marshall  travelled  rapidly.  He  reached  Richmond  on  the  evening 
of  the  16th  of  April.  He  had  business  which  detained  him  in  Rich- 
mond during  the  next  day.  He  had  many  friends  and  relatives  in  the 
city ;  and  Virginia  being  his  native  State,  he  felt  greatly  interested  in 
her  action. 

The  Convention  was  in  secret  session  on  the  17th.  The  Commis- 
sioners which  had  been  sent  to  Washington,  had  returned.  The  course 
which  the  Federal  Government  intended  pursuing  was  plain  to  all,  and 
Virginia  could  hesitate  no  longer. 

It  was  the  general  impression  in  RicLHiond  that  the  State  would 
eecede  that  day.  Marshall  hurried  through  with  his  businesi?,  and  wait- 
ed with  impatience  for  the  news  from  the  Convention.  But  it  did  not 
come.  About  dark,  he  was  conversing  with  some  friends,  when  a  gen- 
tleman, between  Marshall  and  whom  there  existed  a  warm  friendship; 
approached  him  and  drew  him  aside. 

"  Can  you  keep  a  secret  ?"  he  asked. 


4g  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

"I  can,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Then  1  will  tell  you  one.  Virginia  seceded  to-day.  There  are 
movements  on  foot,  of  vital  importance  to  tlio  State,  that  render  it  ne- 
cessary that  this  should  be  kept  secret." 

"Thank  God,"  exclaimed  Marshall,  fervently.  "But,"  he  continu- 
ed, "  the  position  of  the  State  is  very  critical.  The  Federal  Govern- 
ment has  a  strong  force  of  regulars,  and  may  at  any  time  throw  them 
into  Virginia.  Its  war  vessels  can  come  up  to  this  very  city,  and  either 
lay  it  in  ashes  or  take  it.  You  are  at  the  mercy  of  Lincoln,  and  your 
action  certainly  evinces  a  great  amount  of  moral  courage." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  his  friend,  musingly.  "  But  anything  was 
preferable  to  a  union  with  the  North.  What  does  Maryland  intend 
doing?" 

"  We  are  in  a  most  unfortunate  condition,"  said  Marshall.  "  The 
State  is  divided  by  a  wide  Bay,  and  separated  from  the  South  by  a  deep 
river.  *  Our  Governor  has  refused  to  convene  the  Legislature,  and  we 
have  been  deprived  of  a  Convention.  We  have  no  legal  means  of  ex- 
pressing our  wishes.  Our  hearts  arc  with  you,  but  I  am  afraid  that  we 
Lave  been  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  our  enemies." 

"  Revolutionize  your  State.  Force  her  out,"  exclaimed  his  friend, 
impulsively. 

"  That  is  easier  said  than  done,"  said  Marshall.  "  It  is  too  late  now. 
Mark  my  prediction.  In  one  week  from  to-day  we  will  be  at  the  mercy 
of  the  troops  who  will  assemble  at  Washington." 

The  friends  soon  after  separated.  The  next  morning  Marshall  con- 
tinued his  journey  and  reached  Baltimore,  owing  t«!  a  delay,  late  in  the 
pight  of  the  18th  of  April. 

In  the  meantime  the  Northern  troops  had  begun  to  assemble.  On 
the  18th  of  April  a  body  of  four  hundred  half  armed  and  miserable 
specimens  of  humanity  from  Pennsylvania,  calling  themselves  United 
States  soldiers,  passed  through  Baltimore  en  route  for  Washington.  A 
large  crowd  followed  them  through  the  streets,  yelling  and  hooting  at 
them,,  and  heaping  upon  them  all  manner  of  abuse.  The  troops  passed 
rapidly  through  the  city, protected  hy  a  strong  escort  of  the  Clhj  Police. 
Before  the  departure  of  the  trains  for  Washington,  the  troops  informed 
the  crowd  that  there  would  be  a  body  of  men  through  the  city  the  next 
day,  who  would  make  them  "see  sights"  if  they  interfered  with  them. 
As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  more  troops  were  to  be  sent  through  the 
city,  it  was  determined  by  the  crowd  to  dispute  their  passage.  About 
half  past  ten  o'clock,  on  the  morning  of  the  19th  of  April,  Marshall 
was  standing  in  his  office  door,  when  a  man  rushed  by  pale  and  breath- 
less.    Marshall  stopped  him  and  asked  : 


The  Aid-de-Oamp.  43 

«  What  is  the  mattor  ?" 

"  The  Yankee  troops  are  at  the  Philadelphia  Depot,  and  are  butcli- 
ering  the  citizens,"  was  the  reply.     "  I  am  going  for  my  gun." 

Marshall  hurried  into  his  office,  and  seizing  his  revolver,  set  off  at  a 
run  for  the  President  Street  Depot. 

"  The  10th  of  April — the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Lexington," 
he  muttered,  as  he  hurried  on.  "  It  is  appropriate  that  the  first  blood 
of  the  war  should'be  shed  to-day." 

"When  he  reached  the  intersection  of  Gay  and  Pratt  streets,  he  found 
a  large  crowd  assembled,  engaged  in  obstructing  the  railroad  track. 

The  excitement  of  the  previous  day  had  been  greatly  increased  by 
the  anounccmcnt  that  a  large  body  of  troops  would  pass  through  the 
city  on  the  19th.  Early  in  the  morning  a  crowd  collected  along  Pratt 
street^^hrough  which  the  troops  must  pass  to  reach  the  Camden  Sta- 
tion, where  they  were  to  take  the  cars  for  Washington. 

To  avoid  a  repetition  of  the  scenes  of  the  day  before,  the  Kailroad 
Companies  proposed  to  convey  the  troops  through  the  city  in  thirty- 
one  cars.  About  half  past  ten  o'clock  the  trains  reached  the  President 
Street  Depot.  A  dense  crowd  had  collected  around  the  building. 
Cheers  for  '•  Jeff  Davis"  and  the  "  Soiithern  Confederacy,"  groans  for 
'•, Lincoln  and  the  Yankees,"  curses,  hootings  and  hisses  arose  on  all 
sides  from  the  crowd.  The  cars  were  hurried  out  of  the  Depot,  and 
horses  being  quickly  attached  to  them  they  set  off  at  a  gallop  through 
the  city.  The  crowd  at  the  intersection  of  Gray  and  Pratt  streets, 
seized  what  rude  materials  chance  threw  in  their  way,  and  commenced 
Lo  barricade  the  track.  Six  of  the  cars  broke  through,  but  when  the 
seventh  arrived  the  obstructions  were  too  formidable  to  be  overcome. 
The  remaining  cars  hastily  returned  to  the  Depot  from  which  they  had 
started.  A  consultation  of  the  officers  was  now  held,  and  they  decided 
that  the  troops  should  march  through  the  city  to  the  Washington  cars. 

Just  before  the  troops  left  the  cars,  a  young  man,  (whose  name  I 
regret  to  be  unable  to  give  here,)  entered  one  of  them,  and  in  bitter 
terms  reproached  the  troops  for  aiding  in  the  war  against  the  South. 
An  officer,  with  the  straps  of  a  captain  on  his  shoulders,  spraag  to  his 
feet,  and  pointing  to  the  door,  shouted  wrathfully : 

"  Leave  the  car  you  infernal  scoundrel,  or  I  will  fire  upon  you." 

The  young  man  turned  to  him  and  answered  defiantly  : 

"You  are  too  cowardly  to  fire." 

The  officer  drew  his  sword  and  cut  at  him.  The  young  man  received 
the  blow  on  his  left  hand,  and  closing  with  his  assailant,  threw  him 
heavily  to  the  floor.  A  private  sprang  to  aid  his  officer,  but  a  blow 
from  the  athletic  Southerner  laid  him  beside  the  prostrate  captain. 


44  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

Wresting  the  sword  and  scabbard  from  the  captain,  he  left  the  car, 
unmolested  by  the  Yankees,  who  sat  gazing  at  him,  with  open  mouths 
and  distended  eyes,  in  mute  astonishment.  He  paused  for  a  moment 
on  the  platform,  and  raising  the  sword  aloft,  cried  exultantly : 

"  Hurrah,  boys  !  I've  whipped  two  Yankees." 

He  sprang  into  the  crowd  who  received  him  with  shouts  of  delight. 
•The  troops  were  disembarked,  and  hastily  formed.  The  Mayor  of  the 
city,  and  the  Mgirshal  of  Police  placed  themselves  at  bhe  head  of  the  cd- 
umn,  wJiile  a  strong  Police  force  was  in  attendance  to  preserve  order.  The 
Mayor  and  the  Marshal  sympathized  deeply  with  the  South,  but  they 
resolved  to  sacrifice  their  feelings  to  preserve  order  and  peace  in  the 
city,  as  their  duty  required  them.  The  mob  shouted  to  them  to  come 
away,  but  they  disregarded  the  cries  and  kept  their  places  at  the  head 
of  the  troops.  As  the  column  moved  off,  a  Confederate  flag  was  dis- 
played in  the  crowd,  and  was  greeted  with  wild  and  enthusiastic  cheers. 
The  street  was  filled  with  a  fierce  and  exasperated  multitude,  which 
moved  rapidly  along  in  order  to  get  in  front  of  the  troops.  Cries  of 
■"  kill  the  d — d  Yankees,"  "  no  quarter,"  "  down  with  them,"  rose  fear- 
fully on  every  side.  The  soldiers  gazed  around  them  with  a  timid  air, 
and  hastened  forward.  They  were  frightened.  Indeed  the  scene  was 
enough  to  appal  stouter  hearts  than  theirs. 

As  the  troops  passed  out  of  Canton  Avenue,  they  were  greeted  by  a 
volley  of  heavy  stones  thrown  from  the  crowd.  Two  of  the  men  were 
struck  down  instantly,  and  several  we^e  severely  injured.  In  a, few 
minutes  they  were  crossing  the  Pratt  Street  Bridge.  Here  one  of  them 
turned  and  fired  his  musket  into  the  crowd.  Stones  now  fell  in  show- 
ers upon  the  Yankees,  striking  them  upon  the  arras,  head  and  body. 
They  swayed  from  side  to  side,  dodging  the  missiles  which  were  hurled 
upon  them.  Gay  street  was  reached.  The  troops  were  halted,  and  the 
sunlight  flashed  brilliantly  along  the  barrels  of  the  muskets  which  were 
levelled  at  the  crowd.  For  a  moment  there  was  a  pause,  and  the  crowd 
swayed  backwards  with  violence.  "  Fire,"  rang  along  the  line  of  troops, 
and  instantly  a  volley  of  musketry  was  discharged  into  the  mcb.  Sev- 
eral were  killed  instantly,  and  others  severely  wounded.  A  yell  of  rage 
burst  from  the  infuriated  multitude.  Up  to  this  moment  they  had 
used  no  other  weapons  but  stones.  Now  revolvers  were  drawn  and  dis- 
charged at  the  troops,  and  stones  were  literally  rained  upon  them. 
Hundreds  left  the  crowd,  apd  breaking  into  the  neighboring  gun-shops 
supplied  themselves  with  arms,  which  they  used.  A  rapid  running  fire 
was  kept  up  on  both  sides — the  crowd  pressing  furiously  upon  the 
troops.  They  were  now  as  far  as  South  street.  The  troops  glanced 
hastily  around  them,  and  then  broke  into  a  run.     A  cheer  rose  from 


The  Aid-de  Camp.  45 

th-3  crowd.  "They  arc  running."  ''Give  it  to  them,"  were  shouted 
on  all  sides.  At  Calvert  street  a  heavy  shower  of  stones  fell  upon  the 
frightened  Yankees,  bringing  a  number  of  them  to  the  ground  sense- 
less. They  were  again  ordered  to  fire,  but  they  paid  no  attention  to  the 
command,  but  increased  their  speed.  The  order  was  repeated  and  the 
men  brought  to  a  halt.  A  second  volley  was  fired  into  the  crowd,  kill- 
ing and  wounding  several  citizens.  The  soldiers  then  resumed  their 
flight.  The  crowd  now  seemed  wild  with  fury,  and  the  troops  ran  with 
all  speed  towards  the  Washington  Depot. 

They  reached  the  Depot  at  last^  and  crowded  pell  mell  into  the  cars 
which  had  been  prepared  for  them.  But  the  fighting  was  not  yet  over. 
Repeated  vollies  of  stones  were  hurled  at  the  cars,  breaking  the  win* 
dows  and  panels,  and  cutting  and  bruising  the  troops,  who  were  finally 
compelled  to  lie  flat  upon  the  floor  to  protect  themselves ;  and  when- 
ever the  shower  of  stones  would  slacken,  they  would  fire  through  the 
windows. 

A  wild  cry  now  rang  along  the  platform  : 

"  Tear  up  the  track." 

The  dense  crowd  poured  out  of  the  Depot,  and  ran  along  the  track 
for  more  than  a  mile.  It  was  impossible  to  tear  up  the  track,  for  they 
were  not  provided  with  the  means  of  doing  so  3  but  in  order  to  obstruct 
it,  huge  logs  and  stones  were  thrown  upon  the  rails.  A  strong  Police 
forc«  followed  the  mob,  and  removed  the  obstructions  as  fast  as  they 
were  thrown  upon  the  track.  Finally  the  train,  amid  curses,  groans 
and  execrations,  passed  out  of  the  city  and  removed  the  troops  from 
the  scene  of  danger. 

Marshall  had  followed  the  crowd  throughout  the  entire  riot.  He  dis- 
approved of  mob  violence,  but  he  was  indignant  that  Northern  hire- 
lings should  be  carried  through  Baltimore  for  the  purpose  of  waging 
war  upon  the  South.  He  remained  a  silent  spectator  of  the  afi^ir  un- 
til the  troops  turned  and  fired  upon  the  crowd.  Then  he  could  restrain 
himself  no  longer.  He  drew  his  revolver  and  fired  every  barrel  at  the 
the  troops.  He  had  no  more  ammunition,  and  his  weapon  was  now 
useless.  He  followed  4he  crowd  and  used  stones  during  the  remainder 
of  the  fight.  When  the  Yankees  left  the  Depot,  he  turned  away,  and 
was  about  to  return  to  his  office,  when  he  very  unexpectedly  met  Mr. 
Worthington. 

As  his  eyes  fell  upon  him,  Marshall's  first  impulse  was  to  laugh, 
The  old  gentleman  was  standing  on  the  Railroad,  gazing  angrily  at  the 
train.  His  hat  was  mashed  out  of  shape,  his  collar  and  cravat  were 
nearly  torn  off",  his  dress  was  greatly  deranged,  and  his  features  were 
red  and  swollen  with  passion.     He  grasped  his  cane  in  one  hand,  and 


46  The  Md-de-Camp. 

shook  it  defiantly  in  the  direction  of  the  train,  which  had  disappeared 
Marshall  approached  him  with  feelings  of  amused  sur{)rise. 

"My  dear  sir,"  he  exclaimed,  "vrhat  on  earth  are  you  doing  here?" 

«  The  rascals,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  wrathfully,  paying  no  atten- 
tion to  Marshall.     "  To  dare  to  pass  through  a  Southern  city." 

Then  turning  to  him,  .he  exclaimed,  with  a  look  of  astonishment, 
"Why,  Edward,  ray  boy,  I  thought  you  were  in  Charleston." 

"  I  returned  late  last  night,"  replied  Marshall.  '•'  But  tell  me,  Mr. 
Worthington,  what  have  you  been  doing  ?" 

"  Helping  to  drive  those  Yankee  dogs  out  of  Baltimore." 

The  old  man's  eyes  gleamed  with  patriotic  fire.  Then  he  glanced  at 
himself,  and  taking  o£F  his  hat,  straightened  it. 

"  I  am  considerably  used  up,"  said  he,  laughing.  "  But  there  are 
no  bones  broken.     Come  let's  get  a  carriage  and  go  home." 

They  left  the  Dtjpot,  and  soon  procured  a  carriage  and  started  for 
home.  They  were  met  at  the  door  by  Mrs.  "VVorthington  and  Mary. 
The  ladies  were  terribly  frightened  at  the  sight  of  Mr.  Worthington's 
disordered  attire,  but  were  soon  convinced  that  he  had  sustained  no 
bodily  injury.  Mrs.  Worthington  welcomed  Marshall  warmly,  and  the 
young  man  passing  his  arm  around  Mary's  waist,  pressed  a  kiss  upon 
her  rosy  lips. 

"  Bravo,"  cried  Mr.  Worthington.  "  None  but  the  brave  deserve 
the  fair.  We  have  heard  of  your  gallantry  at  Fort  Sumter,  young 
man.  I  have  behaved  like  a  hero,  myself,  to-day,"  he  added,  laugh- 
ing, and  seizing  his  wife  around  the  vaist,  he  gave  her  a  hearty  kiss. 

"Where  have  you  been,  and  what  have  you  been  doing,  Nicholas?" 
asked  Mrs.  Worthington,  blushing,  while  an  expression  of  amusement 
stole  over  her  face  as  she  glanced  at  her  husband's  dress. 

"  Fighting  the  Yankees,  my  dear,"  was  the  reply. 

"  What  fias  been  going  on  ?  Do  tell  us,  we  are  dying  of  curiosity," 
said  Mary,  turning  to  Marshall 

"  There  has  been  a  serious  fight  in  the  city  to-day.  The  Yankee 
troops  passed  through  Baltimore,  and  were  attacked  by  the  citizens. 
Your  fathej:  and  myself  were  in  the  fight.  But  can  it  be  possible  that 
you  are  ignorant  of  it  ?" 

"  We  have  been  in  the  house  all  day,  and  have  heard  nothing,"  said 
Mrs.  Worthington,  quietly,  and  drawing  closer  to  her  husband. 

"  Just  like  you,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  laughing.  "  The  whole 
town  might  burn  down  and  you  would  know  nothing  of  it,  provided 
this  house  did  not  catch  fire.  But  sit  down,  for  I  am  tired  enough  ; 
and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it." 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  47 

Mr.  Worthington  then  related  the  events  of  the  day,  and  wlicii  lie 
had  concluded,  turned  abruptly  to  Marshall,  and  said  : 

"We  have  seen  the  accounts  of  the  fall  of  Fort  Sumter,  and  your 
name  was  mentioned  quite  flatteringly.  You  must  give  us  an  account 
of  the  affair." 

Marshall  related  briefly  the  events  connected  with  the  fall  of  the 
Fort.  His  narration  was  simple  and  modest,  and  when  he  had  finish- 
ed it,  Mr.  Worthington  rose,  and  remarking  that  he  must  make  some 
change  in  his  dress,  left  the  room.  His  wife  followed  him,  and  Mar- 
shall and  Mary  were  left  alone. 

He  led  her  to  a  scat  beside  him,  and  passing  his  arm  around  her 
waist,  drew  her  head  down  upon  his  shoulder. 

"Are you  glad  to  see  me,  after  my  long  absence?"  he  asked,  as  he 
gazed  tenderly  upon  the  pure  face  which  was  uplifted  to  his  own.  Mary 
raised  her  eyes  to  his  and  smiled,  and  the  young  man,  bending  down, 
pressed  a  kiss  upon  her  tempting  lips. 

"  I  am  deeply  grateful  that  you  have  been  permitted  to  return  to  me 
tmhurt,"  she  said,  as  her  eyes  grew  dark  with  feeling.  "  If  you  had 
been  killed,  it  would  have  broken  my  heart." 

Marshall  was  deeply  touched.  The  young  girl  had,  in  these  few 
words,  laid  bare  her  heart  to  him.  He  trembled  at  the  thought  that 
he  might  not  be  worthy  of  such  true,  womanly  love.  A  prayer  rose 
si!ently  from  his  heart  that  he  might  make  her  always  as  happy  as  she 
then  was.  He  drew  her  closer  to  him,  and  passing  his  hand  tenderly 
over  the  smooth  white  brows,  said  in  a  lo"V<|tone  : 

"  It  is  a  great  blessing  to  any  man,  3Iary,  to  have  such  a  dear  little 
woman  to  love  him  as  you  love  me.  I  hope  that  I  may  always  deserve 
it." 

They  sat  together  for  some  time,  conversing  in  those  tones  which  only 
lovers  use,  until  the  entrance  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Worthington  recalled 
them  to  the  outer  world  around  them. 

In  a  short  time  Mr.  Hairig  entered,  and  seeing  Marshall,  advaaeed 
and  shook  hands  warmly  with  him. 

"  I  am  indeed  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Marshall,"  he  said,  cordially. 
"You  have  returned  just  in  time.  I  am  now  on  my  way  to  attend  a 
meeting  of  the  citizens  in  Monument.  Square,  and  I  have  come  to  ask 
Worthington  to  go  with  me.     You  must  accompany  us." 

The  ladies,  dreading  a  naw  danger,  urged  the  gentlemen  to  remain  at 
home. 

"  There  is  no  danger  to  be  encountered,"  said  Mr.  Harris,  smiling. 
"We  are  going  among  friends,  and  it  is  necessary  that  we  should  de- 
termine upon  our  future  course  of  action." 


43  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

In  a  sKort  time  the  gentlemen  left  the  house,  and  proceeded  towards 
Monument  Square.  Upon  ^eac^irlg  the  Court-House,  they  were  admit- 
ted to  the  yard  overlooking  the  Square,  where  they  found  Governor 
Hicks,  Ex-Governor  Lowe,  Mr,  McLean,  Mr.  "Wallia,  Mayor  Brown, 
and  a  number  of  other  distinguished  gentlemen.  Marshall  was  well 
known  to  these  gentlemen,  and  they  had  seen  the  accounts  in  the  news- 
papers of  his  conduct  at  Fort  Sumter.  All  except  Governor  Hicks, 
thronged  around  him,  and  congratulated  him  upon  his  safe  return. 

"  You  must  speak  for  us,  Marshall,"  said  Judge  McLean.  Marshall 
would  have  declined,  but  his  riends  urged  him  so  eagerly,  that  he  con- 
sented. 

Baltimore  was  full  of  wild  excitement,  and  a  dense  throng  occupied 
the  large  Square — the  place  appointed  for  the  meeting.  Each  man 
was  busily  engaged  in  discussing  the  affair  of  the  morning,  and  the 
hum  of  voices  rose  confusedly  above  the  living  mass. 

At  last  the  meeting  was  called  to  order.  Speeches  were  made  by 
Governor  Hicks,  Ex-Governor  Lowe,  Mayor  Brown,  and  Mr.  Wallis, 
These  ge;itlemen  urged  upon  the  people  the  necessity  of  moderation 
and  firmness.  Governor  Hicks  denounced  the  war,  and  declared  that 
his  right  e,rra  should  be  severed  from  his  body,  before  it  should  be  rais- 
ed against  a  Southern  State. 

When  these  gentlemen  had  concluded.  Judge  McLean  was  introdu- 
ced. He  was  received  with  hearty  applause,  for  he  was  known  to  be  a 
thorough  Southerner.  H^urged  the  people  to  resist  the  Nonhera 
Government,  and  told  the  Ahat  if  it  were  necessary,  the  Susquehanna 
should  run  red  with  the  blood  of  their  foes.  He  retired  amid  tremen- 
dous applause. 

In  a  few  moments  he  re-appeared,  leading  Marshall  to  the  front. 
There  was  a  pause  in  the  crowd.     They  did  not  recognize  him. 

"My  friends,"  said  JuJge  McLean,  "I  have  the  pleasure  of  pre- 
f^enting  to  you,  Mr.  Edward  Marshall,  a  gentleman  well  known  to  you 
as  an  orator  and  a  citizen,  but  who  has  won  an  additional  claim  upon 
your  respect  and  admiration,  by  his  gallant  conduct  at  Foi-t  Sumter." 
A  loud  cheer  rose  from  the  crowd,  and  hats  were  tossed  into  the  air. 
So  intense  was  their  sympathy  with  the  South,  that  the  mere  sight  of 
a  man  who  had  participated  in  the  bombardment  of  Fort  Sumter,  seem- 
ed to  thrill  them  with  the  wildest  delight,  .and  it  was  some  time  before 
the  applause  subsided,  Marshall  was  gifted  with  a  rare  eloquence,  and 
the  scene  before  him  stirred  bis  very  soul.  He  spoke  clearly,  fairly 
and  forcibly.  He  urged  immediate  union  among  themselves  and  prompt 
action.     He  counselled  them  to  avoid  dissensions  among  themselves 


The  Aid-de-Oamp.  4i< 

.and  separate  action.     He  urged  them  to  defend  their  city  and  State  ('• 
the  last. 

"  Your  friends  are  south  of  the  Potoinac/'  he  said,  in  concIusioL; 
"and  your  enemies  are  all  around  you.     Your  position  is  unquestiona 
bly  one  of  great  danger.     But  will  you  shrink  from  it  because  it  if 
dangerous  ?     I  feel  that  I  am  addressing  the  descendants  of  that  he 
roic  '  Maryland  Line'  of  the  first  Revolution,  who  shrank  from  no  dan 
ger.     I  know  that  the  spirit  of  Smallwood  and  his  gallant  band — thf 
men  who  fought  at  Camden — animates  each  heart  before  me.     Oh  then 
by  all  the  proud  memories  that  cluster  around  the  glorious  name  of  old 
Maryland — by  all  your  fond  hopes  for  the  future — by  the  memories  of 
your  forefiitlicrs  whose  names  you  would  not  dishonor — by  the  though:, 
of  your  children  whom  you  would  not  have  to  blush  for  your  degene- 
racy, I  implore  you  to  stand  up  like  men  for  the  independence  and 
rights  of  your  native  State.     Defend  them  with  your  lives,  if  neces 
sary,  and  may  the  (jood  Lord  give  you  the  victory." 

Marshall  retired  amidst  tremendous  applause. 

It  was  determined  to  organize  the  citizens  for  the  defence  of  the  city 

When  the  meetrng  broke  up,  Marshall  was  surrounded  by  his  friend*, 
who  congratulated  him  upon  his  brilliant  speech.  Later  in  the  day  he 
was  approached  by  Mr.  Harris. 

*•  I  have  g  >od  news  for  you,"  said  that  gentleman,  joyfully.  *'  Hick? 
has  consented  to  convene  the  Legislature." 

"  It  is  too  late  tc  do  any  great  good,"  said  Marshall  gloomily,  '<  Our 
position  is  desperate,  and  I  am  afraid  th%t  we  ehall  be  overpowered  be- 
fore the  Legislature  can  assemble." 

The  excitement  continued  unabated.  The  military  companies  of 
the  city  were  placed  under  arms,  and  the  citizens  armed  and  organized 
as  far  as  possible. 

On  the  night  of  the  19th  of  April,  Governor  Hicks  gave  orders  fo.- 
the  destruction  of  all  the  Railroad  bridges  around  the  city,  to  prevent 
the  arrival  cf  any  more  troops.  These  orders  were  executed  on  the 
morning  of  the  20th.  Saturday  passed  away  without  anything  worthy 
of  note  occurring. 

On  Sunday  morning  tlie  churches  of  the  city  were  more  largely  at 
teaded  than  usual.  Marshall,  in  company  with  Mary,  attended  Grace 
•Church,  as  was  his  custom.  The  morning  passed  away  quietly.  About 
twelve  o'clock  the  congregation,  was  startled  by  the  loud  ringing  of 
alarm  bells.  It  could  not  be  for  firo,  for  they  were  ringing  too  vio- 
lently. In  a  few  minutes  a  gentleman  entered  the  church  and  whi? 
pered  to  Marshall : 

"The  enemy  are  advancing  twenty  thoiisand -strong  from  Cockey? 
4 


j50  Tlie  Aid-de-Camp. 

ville.     Col.  Huger  wishes  to  see  you.     You  will  find  him  at  the  armoyy 
of  the  Maryland  Guards." 

Marshall  whispered  to  Mary  that  she  must  go  home.  They  left  the 
church,  and  on  the  way  home  he  told  her  the  cause  of  the  excitement, 
••nd  urged  her  to  be  calm.  Her  face  flushed  for  a  moment,  and  then 
became  deathly  pale. 

"  Do  your  duty,"  she  said,  in  a  low  tone.  "1  willtrust  to  God  to 
bring  you  back  to  me  in  safety." 

He  left  her  at  the  door  of  Mr.  Worthington's  residence,  and  hurried 
to  the  quarters  of  the  Maryland  Guard.  He  found  the  streets  thronged 
with  people.  The  congregations  of  the  various  churches  had  been  dis- 
rrrLssed,  and  were  hastening  home  with  anxious  hearts.  Old  men  and 
boys  hurried  along  in  various  directions  with  weapons  of  every  descrip- 
tion. Old  men,  with  hoary  hair,  tottered  along  with  renewed  strength, 
and  eyes  gleaming  with  the  awakened  fire  of  youth,  clutching  deter- 
minedly the  deadly  weapons  with  which  they  had  provided  themselves. 
Men  lined  the  house-tops  ready  to  fire  upon  the  enemy  as  soon  as  they 
»5hould  make  their  appearance.  Loud  shouts  and  the  hum  of  eager 
voices  filled  the  air,  ;ind  high  above  all  rose  the  hoarse  clanging  of  the 
alarm  bells.  A  large  crowd  had  assembled  in  Monument  Square  and 
around  Carroll  Hall,  where  the  Maryland  Guard  were  quartered. 

Marshall  made  his  way  through  it,  and  approached  the  Hall.  He 
found  the  Maryland  Guard  drawn  up  in  front  of  it.  A  small  man, 
»9ith  hair  and  moustache  slightly  tinged  with  gray,  and  dressed  in  a 
plain  blue  uniform,  was  sitting  quietly  on  his  horse,  before  them.  He 
was  Col.  Huger,  formerly  a  distinguished  officer  of  the  United  States 
army,  but  now  in  command  of  the  troops  assembled  for  the  defence  of 
Baltimore. 

Marshall  approached  him,  and  introducing  himself,  told  him  that  he 
had  received  his  message. 

"I  was  advised  to  send  for  you,  Mr.  Marshall,"  said  Col.  Huger,  dis- 
mounting, and  handing  his  bridle  to  an  Orderly,  "  because  I  was  told 
that  you  possess  great  influence  over  these  people.  They  are  now,"  he 
added,  glancing  around  him  with  an  expression  of  mingled,  amusement 
*ind  anxiety,  "  nothing  but  a  mob,  and  with  all  their  great  bravery,  are 
in  great  danger  of  being  defeated  by  organized  troops.  I  want  you  to 
aid  me  in  my  efforts  to  bring  some  order  out  of  this  confusion." 

"  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,"  replied  Marshall,  "  but  I  expect  we 
flhall  find  it  a  difficult  task." 

Colonel  Huger  then  set  about  making  some  preparations  for  an  or- 
ganized defence  of  the  city.  The  day  wore  away,  but  the  excitement 
ccntinued  unabated.    Late  in  the  afternoon,  information  was  received 


The  Aid-dC'Camp.  51 

that  the  enemy  had  halted  at  Cockeysville,  and  that  they  would  not  ad- 
vance upon  the  city.  The  crowd  then  dispereed,  but  the  volunteera 
weie  kept  uniler  arras. 

I  must  now  anticipate  events,  and  furnish  the  reader  with  an  outline 
of  the  aflfairs  which  transpired  after  the  pcjripd  of  this  cliapter.  Thig 
is  necessary  in  order  that  I  may  not  be  compelled  to  pause  in  the  course 
of  this  recital,  to  relate  events  of  a  public  nature. 

After  <hc  19th  of  April,  the  excitement  increased  throughout  Mary- 
ar.d,  until  the  whole  State,  from  I'ennsylvania  to  the  Potomac,  wa? 
thoroughly  aroused. 

But  Maryland  was  helpless^  The  refusal  of  the  Governor  to  con 
vene  the  Legislature  had  deprived  her  of  a  Convention,  and  the  State 
was  without  the  means  of  giving  authoritative  expression  of  her  will 
Now,  the  enemy's  troops  were  collecting  upon  her  borders.  Her  militia 
were  unorganized,  and  her  volunteer  Loops  were  scarcely  a  handful  in 
number.  The  State  was  unarmed  and  almost  destitute  of  defence. 
Her  principal  cities,  Baltimore  and  Annapolis  were  commanded  by 
strong  forts  held  by  the  enemy;  her  Governor  was  disloyal  to  her,  and 
a  willing  instrument  of  the  Federal  Government.  Her  position  waf» 
highly  embarrassing  and  dangerous.  But  in  spite  of  this,  she  was 
ready  and  anxious  to  go  out  of  the  Union.  Alas!  she  had  no  means 
of  doing  60. 

The  destruction  of  the  bridges  around  Baltimore  had  prevented  the 
United  States  troops  from  passing  through  that  city.  In  order  to 
remedy  this,  the  Federal  Government  caused  them  to  be  conveyed  in 
viteamers  from  Perryville,  at  the  head  of  the  Bay,  to  Annapolis.  Thence 
they  were  marched  to  Washington,  along  the  line  of  the  Eailway,  They 
<;ontinucd  to  pour  into  Washington. 

The  enemy  having  possession  of  the  capital  of  the  State,  the  Legis- 
lature met  in  Frederick  City.  Had  they  been  united  and  harmonious, 
they  might  have  oo.rried  the  State  out  of  the  Union  even  at  that  late 
hour,  but,  unfortunately,  they  did  not  represent  the  sentiments  of  the 
ueople.     They  delayed  until  it  was  too  late  to  act. 

The  United  States  having  determined  to  take  military  possession  of 
f.he  State,  B.  F.  Butler,  a  Massachusetts  lawyer  of  slender  reputation, 
who  had  been  made,  to  the  surprise  of  every  one,  a  Major  General  of 
Volunteers,  was  ordered  to  occupy  it  with  a  strong  force.  The  Federal 
troops  already  held  Annapolis,  and  others  were  stationed  between  Bal- 
fin:ore  and  the  Pennsylvania  line. 

On  the  10th  of  May,  Butler  left  the  Relay  House  and  entered  Bal- 
timore.    No  resistance  was  oflfered.     Indeed,  any  reeistance  that  could 


52  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

have  been  made  would  have  been  idle.  The  troops  were  marched  tc 
Federal  Hill,  ^here  they  encamped. 

Governor  Hicks  now  threw  Ou  the  mask,  and  openly  embraced  the 
caase  of  the  Lincoln  Government.  He  issued  orders  for  the  disarming 
of  the  volunteers  upon  the  pretext  that  the  arms  were  the  property  of 
the  State.  They  were  collected  in  an  outrageous  manner  and  deposited 
in  Fort  McHenry.  Maryland  was  now  completely  in  the  power  of  the 
-juemy,  and  could  make  no  resistance. 

General  Butler  was  not  continued  long  in  the  command  of  the  State. 
He  was  assigned  the  command  at  Fortress  Monroe  in  Virginia,  and 
was  succeeded  by  Brigadier  G^^neral  Geo.  Cadwallader  of  Pennsylva- 
nia, a  conceited  coxcomb,  whose  vanity  was  equalled  only  by  his  unfit- 
ness for  command. 

In  the  South  the  Border  States  had  seceded,  and  had  entered  the 
Confederacy,  Troops  had  been  stationed  at  exposed  points.  York- 
town,  Norfolk,  Manassas  Junction,  Harper's  Ferry,  and  other  place? 
were  held  and  strengthened.  A  large  and  gallant  army  was  being  ra- 
pidly organized  in  the  Confederacy,  and  a  .spirit  of  stern  resistance  wa^ 
everywhere  exhibited. 

Finding  that  the  State  was  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  with  no  pros- 
pect of  relief,  numbers  of  Marylanders  crossed  over  to  Virginia  and 
entered  the  Southern  army. 

Marshall  determined  to  follow  their  example,  and  set  about  arrangin? 
his  affairs  so  that  be  might  be  able  to  go  South  as  soon  as  possible. 


CHAPTER  V 

MARY  Worthington  was  very  beautiful,  and  was  greatly  admired 
by  the  gentlemen  of  Baltimore.  Although  so  young,  she  had 
been  in  society  for  several  years,  She  had  been  eagerly  sought  by  a 
number  of  gentlemen,  but  their  addresses  had  been  kindly,  but  firmly 
rejected. 

When  Edward  Marshall  sought  her  love,  he  did  not  sue  in  vaio. 
Her  heart  was  at  once  and  willingly  surrendered  to  him,  and  she  loved 
him  with  her  whole  heart,  not  only  for  his  noble  and  manly  character. 
and  his  high  and  enviable  reputation,  but  "  she  loved  him  because  sho 
loved  him ;  because  she  could  not  help  it." 

Since  their  betrothal  they  had  never  been  separated  for  more  than  a,- 
day,  until  Marshall  went  to  Charleston,  and  Mary  was  inexpressiblv 
lonely  during  his  absence. 

While  Marshall  was  away,  one  of  her  friends  gave  a  large  part\\ 
and  Mary  was  present.  There  she  met  with  a  gentleman  from  Phila- 
delphia, whom  her  hostess  presented  as  Mr.  Henry  Cameron,  one  of 
her  most  intimate  friends.  Mary  did  not  like  him,  but  she  was  forced 
to  treat  him  politely,  and  as  her  hostess  had  spoken  of  him  as  such  a 
dear  friend,  she  felt  called  upon  to  treat  him  with  more  than  ordinary 
civility. 

Mr.  Cameron  was  tall  and  elegantly  formed;  very  graceful,  and 
quite  handsome.     His  features  were  dark  and  perfectly  chiselled,  hi.^^ 
eyes  large  and  brilliant,  and  his  hair,  which  he  wore  in  the  most  fash 
ionable  style,  was  as  black  as  night.     But  there  was  a  foul  and  sinister 
expression  about  the  mouth,  which  made  one  distrust  the  man. 

Mr.  Cameron  was  a  thorough  man  of  the  world — rather  inclined  to 
be  heartless,  and  it  was  whispered  that  he  was  decidedly  unprincipled. 
His  manner  towards  Mary  Worthington  was  marked  by  great  defe- 
rence, and  he  was  more  attentive  to  her  than  he  had  been  to  any  one 
for  some  time. 

Mr.  Cameron  looked  upon  women  chiefly  as  objects  formed  for  liis 
enjoyment.  He  passed  like  the  bee  among  the  flowers,  from  one  tc^ 
another,  sipping  the  sweets  that  lay  upon  the  surface,  but  never  pene- 
trating to  the  heart — never  dealing  with  their  better  and  truer  natures. 
Indeed  he  was  too  thoroughly  a  man  of  the  world  to  care  much  for  th0 


54  The  Aid-de-Gamp. 

heart  and  its  feelings.  When  he  met  with  Mary  Worthiogton  he  felt 
a  Btronger  emotion  than  he  had  ever  known  before.  It  could  hardly 
be  called  love :  it  was  not  true  love,  for  Mr.  Cameron  was  incapable  of 
experiencing  euch  a  pure  emotion.  But,  at  all  events,  he  thought  that 
he  loved  the  young  girl,  and  he  knew  that  his  feelings  for  her  were  flif- 
Jerent  from  any  that  the  had  ever  experienced  for  any  one  else. 

With  a  woman's  instinct,  Mary  was  at  once  aware  th.at  Mr.  Cameron 
regarded  her  with  feelings  of  more  than  ordinary  interest.  She  re- 
gretted this :  she  was  annoyed  by  it.  She  could  not  even  like  him. 
She  felt  that  he  was  a  cold  and  heartless  man ;  and  while  her  love  for 
Marshall  prevented  Mr.  Cameron  from  having  the  least  prospect  of 
**  winning  her,  she  could  not  even  bring  herself  to  regard  hira  as  a  friend. 
She  was  placed  in  an  unpleasant  position,  and  was  glad  when  the  time 
came  for  her  to  retuvn  home.  Once  in  the  silence  of  her  own  cham 
ber,  she  ceased  to  think  of  Mr.  Cameron,  and  her  heart  warmed  and 
grew  tenderer,  as  her  thoughts  turned  upon  her  absent  lover,  and  a 
prayer  went  up  to  God  that  night  that  He  would  guide  the  wanderer 
safely  on  his  way. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Cameron  called,  and  she  was  forced  to  see  him. 
He  called  again  the  next  day,  and  his  visits  were  repeated  daily.  When 
Marshall  returned  Mary  told  him  of  all  that  had  happened,  and  asked 
him  what  she  must  do. 

"  Treat  him  politely,  but  in  sucli  a  manner  as  to  convince  him  of  the 
hopelessness  of  his  case,"  was  the  reply. 

A  few  days  after  this,  Mr.  Cameron  called  upon  her,  and  addressed 
ber.     She  rejected  him  kindly,  but  firmly. 

"  I  do  not  understand  your  conduct,  Miss  Worthington,"  said  Mr. 
Cameron.  "  You  have  certainly  encouraged  me  to  hope  for  a  favora- 
ble answer  to  my  suit."  . » 

Mary  was  indignant  that  he  should  so  grossly  and  willfally  miflun- 
derstand  her. 

"You  are  mistaken,  air,"  she  replied,  coldly.  "  I  have  treated  you 
politely,  but  never  encouragingly.  I  had  hoped  that  my  conduct 
would  have  discouraged  you." 

"  Why  do  you  object  to  me,  Miss  Worthington  ?"  asked  the  gentle- 
.Tian,  with  an  air  of  perplexity.  "  Surely  my  wealth  and  position  are 
Hqual  to  your  own." 

"  I  have  declined  your  offer,  Jfr.  Cameron,  because  I  do  not  and 
f.'annot  love  you,"  said  the  young  lady,  with  dignity. 

"  Oh !  if  that  is  all,"  said  the  young  man,  with  a  vanity  that  was 
(Rily  ludicrous,  "  you  may  overcome  that  feeling.    You  will  learn  to 


Tfie  Aid-de-Camp.  55 

love  mo,  and  I  promise  myself  the  happiness  of  hearing  a  different  %i\ 
swer  from  you,  yet. ' 

"Your  hope  is  vain,  Mr.  Cameron,"  said  Mary,  with  mingled  feel- 
ings of  amusement  and  indignation.  "  If  I  cannot  discourage  you  in 
any  other  way,  I  must  tell  you  that  I  am  already  engaged  to  another 
Surely  you  will  now  0fe  silent  upon  the  subject." 

Mr.  Cameron  started,  as  if  he  had  been  stung  by  a  serpent.  His 
fece  grew  crimson,  and  then  as  pale  as  marble.  He  had  not  expected 
this  announcement. 

"To  whom  ?"  he  asked,  in  a  low,  suppressed  tone. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  ask  that  question.  It  should  be  sufficient 
for  you  to  know  that  I  can  no  longer  listen  to  youc  addresses/'  was  the 
reply. 

Mr.  Cameron  was  silent.     Then  he  exclaimed,  bitterly  : 

"  I  see  it  all  now.  You  love  that  man  Marshall.  That  tell-tale 
blush  proves  that  I  am  right,"  he  continued,  gazing  at  her  fixedly—- 
th.  n  his  eyes  flashed,  and  he  cried,  excitedly,  "  But  he  shall  never  call 
you  his  wife.  Mine  you  must  and  shall  be.  I  have  sworn  it  by  all 
the  powers  of  Heaven,  and  I  will  keep  my  oath." 

The  young  girl's  eyes  gleamed  indignantly. 

"  You  forget  to  whom  you  are  speaking,  sir,"  she  said  proudly^  a5 
ehe  rose  from  her  seat.     "  Leave  me." 

She  pointed  to  the  door.  Mr.  Cameron  turned  hurriedly,  and  move;! 
towards  it.  Suddenly  he  paused  abruptly,  and,  after  a  brief  hesita^- 
tion,  returned,  and  said,  respectfully: 

"I  trust  that  you  will  pardon  my  rudeness.  Miss  Worthingtou.     I 

hardly  know  what  I  am  about.     I ."     He  paused  and  his  breast 

heaved. 

The  young  girl's  indignation  gave  way  to  a  feeling  of  pity.  Perhap? 
he  was  really  suffering.     So  she  replied  gently  : 

"  I  accept  your  apology,  Mr.  Cameron ;  but  I  think  it  will  be  better 
for  both  parties  that  our  acquaintance  should  end  here." 

"  Be  it  as  you  will,"  he  said,  submissively,  "  but  I  trust  I  carry  yfilh. 
me  your  forgiveness." 

"  I  do  forgive  you,  freely,"  she  exclaimed,  earnestly,  "  and  I  shall 
not  t  hink  of  you  unkindly. 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  him.  He  took  it,  bowed  low  over  it,  and 
left  the  room. 

Mr.  Cameron  was  maddened  by  his  failure.  He  could  hardly  be- 
lieve it  possible  that  he,  the  ga.y  and  fasqnating  man  of  the  world, 
whose  boast  it  was  that  no  woman  could  resist  his  arts,  had  been  re- 
jected by  a  mere  girl.     He  cursed  himself  bitterly  for  his  folly,  and 


/^S-  The  Aid-de-Camp,' 

determined  to  be  revenged  upon  Miss  Worthington  for  her  refusal  o^ 
him.     Ilis  apology  was  a  stroke  of  policy  * 

"  This  cursed  war,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  will  unsettle  CYcrything, 
and  then  I  shall  have  a  better  opportunity  of  executing  my  plan." 

This  was  the  last  of  April.  Mr.  Cameron  at  once  returned  to  Phila- 
delphia. He  was  an  intimate  friend  of  and  fit  associate  for  General 
Oadwalladcr;  and  when  that  officer  received  his  appointment  as  Briga- 
dier General  of  Volunteers,  he  was  tendered  by  him  the  position  of 
Assistant  Adjutant  General,  on  his  staff,  which  he  at  once  accepted. 

When  General  Butler  was  removed  from  Baltimore,  he  was  suc- 
ceeded by  General  Cadwallader.     Captain  Cameron  came  with  him. 

A  few  days  after  his  arrival  in  Baltimore,  he  called  at  Mr.  Worth- 
ington's  residence,  and  sent  up  his  card,  with  a  request  to  see  Miss 
Mary.  In  a  short  time  the  card  was  returned  to  him,  with  this  en- 
dorsement : 

"  Miss  Worthington  declines  to  receive  Captain  Cameron,  for  rea- 
sons which  are  well  known  to  him ;  and  for  the  additional  reason  that 
jhe  cannot  consent  to  hold  any  friendly  intercourse  with  an  enemy  of 
her  country." 

He  read  the  card  in  silence,  and  passed  out  of  the  house. 
.  ''  She  shall  repent  this,"  he  hissed  between  his  shut  teeth  as  he 
strode  along. 

Time  passed  away.  One  afternoon,  about  the  last  of  May,  Mary 
went  to  visit  a  friend,  living  in  a  distant  part  of  the  city.  She  did  not 
start  to  return  home  until  quite  late.  It  was  growing  dark  very  rapidly, 
and  the  lamps  were  not  lit.  She  hastened  on  timidly,  and  turned  into 
a  cross  street.  As  she  did  so,  a  heavy  cloak  was  thrown  over  her 
head,  and  a  pair  of  stout  arms  seized  her.  She  felt  herself  lifted 
from  the  ground  and  borne  rapidly  along.  Her  captor  entered  a  car- 
riage, still  retaining  his  grasp  upon  her,  and  the  vehicle  was  driven 
away. 

From  the  moment  of  her  seizure,  Mary  struggled  violently,  and  as- 
3he  was  placed  in  the  carriage,  succeeded  in  partially  removing  the 
covering  from  her  head.  She  immediately  uttered  a  loud  cry  for  help. 
Her  captor  roughly  replaced  the  covering,  and  as  the  carriage  drove 
off,  said  to  her  sternly: 

*'  It  is  useless  to  struggle.     You  must  go  with  me." 

The  young  girl  recognized  the  voice.     It  was  Captain  Cameron's. 

Since  the  day  that  Mary  had  refused  to  see  him,  Cameron  had 
watched  her  movements,  fully  resolved  upon  his  plan  of  revenge.  He 
-lad  seen  her  leave  her  father's  house,  and  had  followed  her  to  her 
mend's.     He  at  once  procured  a  carriage,  and  sending  the  driver  back 


The  Aid-de-Camp.'  57- 

to  the  stable,  made  his  servant — a  "  white  negro,"  who  was  as  great  a 
rascal  as  his  master — mount  the  bos.  When  Mary  reappeared  on  the 
street,  he  followed  her  cautiously,  and  taking  advantage  of  the  dark- 
iiess,  seized  her,  and  conveyed  her  to  the  carriage. 

On  that  very  day  Marshall  had  completed  his  arrangements,  and  bad 
determined  to  go  to  Virginia  in  a  few  days.  lie  had  business  in  the 
western  part  of  the  city  that  afternoon,  and  was  returning  to  his  office 
about  dark,  when  ho  saw  a  short  distance  ahead  of  him  a  female  figure, 
which  at  a  glance  he  knew  to  be  Mary's.  Wondering  what  could 
keep  her  out  on  the  street  so  late,  he  hurried  on  to  overtake  her.  He 
had  almost  caught  up  with  her,  when  she  turned  into  a  cross  street, 
and  his  foot  slipped  on  a  piece  of  apple  peel,  and  he  fell  to  the  ground. 
When  he  rose  to  his  feet,  he  saw  l^er  struggling  in  the  arms  of  a  m.an 
who  was  placing  her  iu  a  carriage.  He  heard  her  cry  for  help,  and 
rushed  towards  the  carriage,  but  before  he  reached  it,  it  set  off  rapidly 
in  an  easterly  direction.  He  gave  chase  to  it  with  all  speed.  In  a  few 
minutes  he  came  up  with  a  hack.  Stopping  it,  he  sprang  to  the  box 
and  shouted  to  the  driver,  as  he  pointed  to  the  carriage  which  was 
flying  before  them : 

<<  Two  hundred  dollars  if  you  will  catch  that  hack." 

Stimulated  by  the  prospect  of  such  a  liberal  reward,  the  driver 
lashed  his  horses  furiously  and  urged  them  to  their  greatest  speed.. 
They  were  a  pair  of  noble  animals,  and  they  gained  rapidly  upon  the 
carriage.  As  they  drew  near  it,  Marshall  turned  to  the  driver,  and 
said  hurriedly : 

"  There  is  only  one  way  to  stop  it.  AYe  must  run  into  it.  Yoii. 
know  who  I  am.  I  will  give  you  five  hundred  dollars,  and  pay  for  the 
damage  to  your  hack,  if  you  will  run  into  that  carriage  and  stop  it." 

Five  hundred  dollars  seemed  almost  a  fortune  to  the  poor  driver. 
It  was  a  dangerous  undertaking  that  he  was  asked  to  perform ;  but  ha 
muttered  firmly  as  he  lashed  his  horses  onward : 

"  All  right,  sir,     I'll  do  it." 

The  hack  flew  on  at  a  fearful  rate.  It  was  evident  that  the  driver 
of  the  carriage  saw  that  he  was  pursued,  for  he  lashed  his  horses  to 
their  utmost  speed.  Both  vehicles  seemed  to  fly  with  the  speed  of  tho 
wind,  and  the  fire  flew  in  flames  from  the  heavy  paving  stones  under 
their  wheels.  The  pursuers  were  rapidly  gaining  upon  the  pursued- 
On  they  came,  nearer  and  nearer,  until  at  last  they  were  side  by 'side. 
They  had  crossed  the  bridge,  gone  beyond  High  street,  and  were  now 
in  the  wide  portion  of  Baltimore  street  iu  Old  Town. 

"  Now,"  shouted  Marshall,  "run. into  them." 

There  was  a  crash  as  the  two  vehicles  came  together,  and  Marshall 


5%  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

felt  himself  hurled  violently  to  the  ground.  For  a  few  moments  he 
lay  stunned.  When  he  recovered  his  consciousnesSj  he  sprang  to  his 
feet  and  gazed  wildly  around  him.  His  hack  was  lying  helplessly  or. 
one  side  and  the  driver  was  standing  by  his  panting  horses.  But  th<^ 
carriage  could  nowhere  be  seen. 

"  Hope  you  ain't  hurt,  Mr.  Slarshall,"  said  the  driver,  as  he  saw 
him  rise.  '<  Only  one  wheel  broke.  I'd  have  helped  you  up,  but  I 
was  afraid  to  leave  my  horses." 

"  Where  is  the  carriage  T'  asked  Marshall  quickly, 

"  Gone,  sir,''  said  the  driver.  "  'Twas  too  strong  for  us.  We  jarred 
it  mightily,  but  it  went  by  without  breaking." ' 

"Which  way  did  it  go  ?"  asked  the  young  man,  gazing  around  hhn. 

"There,"  said  the  driver,  indicating  with  his  finder  the  directior, 
which  the  carriage  had  taken.  "  But  it's  of  no  use  for  you  to  follow 
it.     It  has  been  out  of  sight  for  nearly  ten  minutes." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Marshall,  gloomily.  "  I  must  set  the  police 
upon  the  track  of  that  man,  whoever  he  is.  Come  to  my  office  in  tht- 
morning,  and  I  will  pay  you  what  I  have  promised  you." 

He  then  sought  the  office  of  the  Marshal  of  Police,  He  stated  his 
case  to  him,  and  the  Marshal  promised  to  set  the  detectives  to  work  t.' 
discover  where  the  young  lady  had  been  taken.  Marshall  then  went 
to  Mr.  Woithington's.  He  found  the  old  gentleman  and  his  wife  anx- 
ious and  uneasy  at  the  absence  of  their  "daughter.  Charlie  Worthing- 
ton  had  gone  to  the  house  of  Mary's  friend  to  see  if  she  were  stili 
there,  and  accompany  her  home.  Marshall  told  them  what  had  haj  ■ 
pened.  Their  alarm  and  grief  were  very  great.  The  night  was  speuv 
in  searching  for  the  young  girl,  but  no  trace  of  her  could  be  discov- 
ered. 

The  next  morning  Marshall  was  sitting  in  his  office,  waiting  for  a  de 
tective,  with  whom  he  was  to  renew  the  search.  The  hackman,  whot- 
he  had  engaged  on  the  previous  night,  had  just  left  him,  and  he  wa- 
sitting  with  his  head  bowed  upon  his  hands,  indulging  in  the  mo,-' 
painful  and  gloomy  reflections.  He  heard  footsteps  in  the  room,  an- 
raised  his  head.  The  sight  that  met  his  view  caused  him  to  spring  t  ~ 
his  feet  in  astonishment. 

Half  a  dozen  Federal  soldiers  were  standing  in  the  room,  resting 
upon  their  muskets.  Near  him  Captain  Cameron  was  standing,  gazing- 
at  him  in  silence,  while  a  mocking  smile  played  around  his  lips. 

"  What  does  this  mean,  Captain  Cameron  ?"  asked  Marshall  in  a?- 
tonishment. 

"  It  means  that  I  have  come  to  arrest  yeu,"  was  the  cool  reply. 

"Upon  what  charge?" 


,  The  Aid-de-Camp.  59 

"Treason  !"  paid  tlie  captain,  sternly. 

*'  I  have  been  guilty  of  no  such  crime,"  exclaimed  Marshall,  indig- 
nantly.    "I  will  not  be  arrested." 

'*  Mr.  Marshall,"  said  the  Federal  officer,  coldly,  "  I  have  been  or 
deved  by  General  Cadwallader  to  arrest  and  convey  you  to  Fort 
McHenry.  You  can  probably  satisfy  him  of  your  inhocence.  I  am 
prepared  to  execute  my  orders,  and  shall  certainly  carry  you  with  me." 

"  You  take  great  precautions  to  arrest  one  unarmed  raan,"  said 
Marshall,  with  a  smile  of  contempt.  "  I  will  go  with  you,  sir,  and  I 
am  sure  that  I  shall  satisfy  General  Cadwallader  of  the  fallacy  of  this 
charge." 

Marshall  accompanied  Captain  Cameron  to  the  Fort.  When  they 
reached  it  he  demanded  to  be  taken  before  General  Cadwallader. 

"  Follow  me,  sir,"  said  Captain  Cameron.     "  He  is  in  his  office.'' 

Marshall  followed  him  until  they  came  \o  a  door  at  the  side  of  the 
court  yard  of  the  Fort.  Cameron  opened  it,  and  stood  waiting  for 
Marshall  to  pass  in.  The  unsuspecting  young  man  did  so,  and  the 
door  was  immediately  closed  with  a  clang,  and  'locked.  Marshall 
rusheti  to  it,  and  tried  to  open  it,  but  in  vain.  It  was  fast.  He  heard 
a  loud  mocking  laugh  without,  and  Cameron's  voice  exclaimed : 

"  I  have  you  now,  Mr.  Marshall.  Mary  Worthington  is  in  my  power 
I  shall  marry  her  to-morrow  night.  You  may  as  well  make  up  your 
mind  to  spend  the  summer  here.     Good  morning,  sir." 

Marshall  shuddered  at  the  thought  that  Mary  was  in  the  power  of 
such  a  villain  as  Cameron.  In  a  mon;ent  the  whole  plan, flashed  across 
his  mind.  Mary  was  to  be  forced  into  a  marriage  with  her  abductor, 
and  be  had  been  arrested  in  order  to  prevent  him  from  giving  her  any 
aid.  He  rushed  to  the  door,  and  shook  it  violently,  but  he  could  not 
open  it.  The  window  of  the  room  was  strongly  burred.  He  shouted 
aloud  for  help.  The  only  reply  that  he  received  was  a  gruff  command 
from  a  Federal  soldier,  who  happened  to  be  passing,  to  "be  quiet." 
He  ■wai'  helpless,  and  his  affianced  wife  was  in  the  power  of  a  villain. 
He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  great  tears  of  bitter  agony 
fell  through  his  fingers. 

When  the  carriage  which  contained  Mary  and  her  captor  had  fairly 
litarted,  the  covering  was  removed  from  her  head,  and  she  saw  that  she 
was  in  the  arms  of  an  officer  of  the  Federal  army.  In  an  instant  she 
knew  that  her  abductor  was  Captain  Cameron.  She  struggled  violently 
to  free  herself  from  him,  but  he  held  her  with  a  grasp  of  iron.  Her 
struggles  grew  feebler,  and  finally  ceased  altogether.     She  had  fainted. 

The  carriage  was  driven  rapidly  across  the  Falls,  and  towards  the 
eastern  portion  of  the  city.     Soon  Captain  Cameron  heard  a  vehicle 


(ofir  The  Aid'de-Qamp.  , 

approaching  quickly  behind  them,  and  glancing  through  the  back  win- 
dow, he  saw  a  hack  coming  after  them  at  full  speed.  He  knew  that  he 
was  pursued,  rind  he  shouted  to  his  servant  to  drive  faster.  Soon  the 
vehicles  were  side  by  side.  Then  came  the  crash  as  the  pursuing  hack 
dashed  into  his  own.  The  carriage  swayed  violently  to  one  side,  but 
kept  on  its  course.  Its  great  strength  had  saved  ic.  Cameron  glanced 
at  the  hack;  and  an  exclamation  of  savage  joy  escaped  his  lips  as  he 
.saw  it  fall  heavily  to  one  side.  The  carriage  kept  on,  and  turning  down 
Broadway,  passed  towards  Fell's  Point.  It  paused  before  a  dark  and 
gloomy  brick  house  near  the  water.  The  young  girl,  still  insensible, 
was  lifted  from  the  carriage  and  carried  to  the  house. 

When  Mary  recovered  her  consciousness,  she  found  herself  lying  on 
a  lounge  in  a  richly  furnished  apartment.  Captain  Cameron. was  sit- 
ting by  her,  bathing  her  temples  with  cold  water.  She  started  up,  and 
gazed  around  her  with  a  bewildered  stare.  She  could  hardly  believe 
the  scene  real. 

"  Where  am  I  ?"  she  murmured. 

*•  Where  you  will  be  respected  by  friends,"  said  Captain  Cameron, 
advancing  tc  her. 

She  gazed  at  him  with  an  expression  of  fear  and  loathing,  and  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Why  have  you  brought  me  here  ?  What  have  I  done  to  you  ?" 
•^  You  have  nothing  to  fear,  Miss  Worthington,"  said  Captain  Came- 
ron, in  a  soothing  tone.  "  You  refused  to  allow  me  to  visit  you,  and  I 
have  determined  to  see  you.  This  is  why  I  have  brought  you  here. 
Listen  to  me.  I  love  you  with  a  wild  and  fearful  passion.  I  must  and 
will  call  you  mine.  -  Consent  to  be  my  wife,  and  a  minister  shall  join 
our  hands  at  once.  Then  I  will  restore  you  to  your  parents.  I  can 
easily  obtain  their  forgiveness.  I  am  wcahhy,  and,  as  my  wife,  your 
every  desire  shall  be  gratified.     Will  you  be  my  wife?" 

Mary  had  listened  to  him  with  astonishment  and  indignation.  When 
he  finished,  she  drew  herself  up  proudly,  and  gazed  at  him  with  eyes 
whose  scornful  fires  made  him  lower  his,  and  gaze  uneasily  upon  the 
floor. 

"  You  disgrace  even  the  uniform  that  you  wear,  craven,"  she  cried, 
indignantly.     ^'  I  scorn  you." 

Cameron's  face  flushed  wrathfully,  and  he  clenched  his  hand.  But 
he  calmed  himself,  and  answered  coldly  : 

"  I  will  leave  you  to  your  own  reflections.     You  do  not  quit  this 
house  except  as  my  wife.     This  bouse,  the  servants,  all  things  here,  are 
mine.     You  will  be  calmer  in  the  morning,  and  I  will  see  you  then." 
He  turned  on  his  heel  and  left  the  room.     Mary  saw  him  depart,  and 


The  Aid-de-Canip.  (j^ 

heard  btm  lock  the  door  behind  him.  Then  her  co-arago  failed  her, 
and  she  sank  oh  her  knees  and  wept  bitterly.  She  was  a  prey  trO  tlu- 
wildest  and  most  terrible  fear?.  She  knew  that  she  was  in  the  power 
of  a  man  who  wohM  not  scruple  at  anything.  What  could  she  do  to 
protect  herself?  Then  came  thonghts  of  home  and  her  anxious  and 
grief  stricken  parent".  Then  she  thought  of  Marshall.  Poor  girl '. 
her  sufferings  were  intense.  Bodily  anguish  she  could  have  endured, 
but  it  seemed  that  this  mental  torture  would  drive  her  mad.  She  pass- 
ed a  sleepless  right.  She  longed  for  the  morning  to  come,  yet  she 
dreaded  its  approach,  for  she  knew  that  she  would  see  her  persecutor. 
At  last  the  day  came.  A  few  hours  after  light,  the  door  was  opened. 
She  started  up  in  ahirra.  It  v^as  only  a  servant,  who  came  to  extinguish 
the  gas.  He  returned  soon  afterwards  5  and  plaoed  a  tein_>ting  break- 
fast upon  the  table,  and  then  withdrew  in  silence. 

The  day  wore  away,  and  Mary  grew  calmer.  About  noon  Captain 
Cameron  made  his  appearance.  There  was  a  flush  of  triun^ph  upon  his 
face,  and  he  seated  himself  by  the  side  of  the  yov.ng  girl,  who  rosG  and 
walked  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  room. 

"  Have  you  decided  ?"  he  asked,  rising  and  approaching  her. 
"  I  have,  sir,"  she  replied,  shrinking  from  him. 
"  And  your  answer  ?" 

'•'  Is  the  same  that  I  gave  you  last  night,"  she  said  quickly. 
"  Indeed,"  snid  Cameron,  insolently.  "  But  perhaps  you  may  change 
it.  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  which  may  influence  your  decision. 
Last  night,  when  I  was  conveying  you  here  in  znj  carriage,  I  was  pur- 
sued by  your  lover,  Edward  Marshall.  He  tried  to  break  my  carriage 
and  stop  me,  but  he  failed  to  do  so.  This  morning  I  arrest-^d  hiva  upon 
the  charge  of  treason,  and  he  is  now  lying  in  Fort  MoIIeary.  The 
penalty  of  the  crime  is  death,  or  imprisonment  for  life.  You  .can  save 
him  if  you  will.  Consent  to  be  my  wife,  and  I  will  release  him.  Ke- 
fuse,  and  he  mist  pay  the  penalty." 

He  paused  p.nd  gazed  eearchingly  at  her.  She  shrank  before  him, 
and  shuddered  under  his  glance.  Her  heart  aohed  at  the  thought  of 
her  lover  being  in  the  power  of  her  tormentor.  vShe  trembled  at  the 
thought  of  his  dying  the  death  of  a  traitor.  Should  she  thivlsq  to  save 
him?  Would  it  be  true  love  to  prefer  her  own  happino-s  before  his 
life?  She  was  cruelly  tempted.  Then  she  asked  herself  would  Mar- 
shall  desire  her  to  save  his  life  by  proving  false  to  him.  No !  They 
should  be  faithful  to  each  other  under  all  circumstances.  Death  would 
be  more  welcome  than  life  upon  the  conditions  offered  her.  Captain 
Cameron  watched  her  closely. 
'*  Decide !"  he  said  coldly. 


ea  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

She  raised  her  head,  which  had  been  bowed  upon  her  breast. 

"  I  have  decided/'  she  replied,  calmly  and  firmly.  ''  Do  your  woret, 
1  defy  you." 

'•'  Stubborn,"  he  muttered  angrily.  Then  turning  to  depart,  he  . 
lidded,  *' Tomorrow  night,  at  eight  o'clock,  I  will  return  and  bring 
with  n.e  a  minister.  If  you  will  consent  to  be  my  wife,  the  ceremony 
will  then  be  performed.  If  you  do  not  consent  to  be  mine,  fairly,  I 
shall  have  to  use  force.  Adieu,"  he  continued,  with  a  mocking  smile. 
*'  To-morrow  night  will  see  you  Mrs.  Henry  Cameron.  I  congratulate 
you  upon  your  good  fortune." 

He  passed  out  of  the  room.  Mary  was  bewildered  by  what  she  had 
heard.  The  clouds  seemed  gathering  darkly  around  her,  and  she  could 
nowhere  see  a  ray  of  hope.  The  day  passed  slowly  and  painfully  away, 
and  night  came  at  last. 

A  servant  entered  and  lit  the  gas,  and  removed  the  breakfast  and 
dinner,  which  lay  upon  the  table  untouched,  and  then  pa.ssed  out  in 
silence.  The  night  wore  on,  and  Mary  heard  a  distant  bell  toll  the 
hour  of  nine.  She  was  growing  calmer,  but  more  hopeless.  She  sank 
on  her  knees  and  began  to  pray.  She  felt  that  she  had  only  one  friend 
who  could  aid  her,  and  that  He  was  powerful  to  save  even  in  the  darkest 
hour  of  trial.  She  prayed  mo?,i  earnestly,  and  wrapt  in  the  fervor  of 
devotion,  spoke  aloud,  and  was  unconscious  of  what  was  passing  around 
her. 

The  door  opened  silently,  and  a  woman  entered  so  noiselessly  that 
Mary  did  not  hear  her.  She  closed  the  door  softly,  and  advanced  into 
the  room.  She  was  a  woman  of  queenly  beauty,  with  hair  as  black  a? 
jet,  and  large  and  lustrous  dark  eyes.  Her  closely  fitting  dress  revealed 
the  exquisite  proportions  of  her  magnificent  form.  There  was  a  strange 
and  brilliant  glow  upon  her  cheeks,  a  stern,  determined  look  upon  her 
face,  and  in  her  right  hand  she  grasped  firmly  a  large  knife,  which 
glittered  brilliantly  in  the  gas  light. 

As  she  advanced  into  the  room,  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  kneeling  form 
of  the  young  girl,  and  she  paased  in  astonishment.  She  leant  forward 
and  listened  eagerly.  Unconscious  of  her  presence.  Mary  prayed  to  be 
delivered  from  the  power  of  her  oppressor.  An  expression  of  joy 
passed  over  the  stranger's  features.  As  the  young  girl  continued,  her 
features  grew  very  pale,  and  she  clasped  her  hands,  and  her  frame 
shook  with  a  sudden  and  violent  angu'sh.  The  knife  iell  from  her 
hand,  and  clattered  upon  the  floor.  Eoused  by  this  noise,  Mary  sprang 
to  her  feet,  and  gazed  first  at  the  strange  woman  and  then  at  the  knife, 
in  great  alarm.  In  her  weak  and  exhausted  condition,  the  esicitement 
was  too  great  for  her.     Her  features  grew  ashy  pale,  she  reeled;  and 


The  Aid'de-Camp.  63 

^ould  have  fallen  to  the  floor,  had  not  the  strange  woman  received  her 
in  her  arms.  She  carried  the  insensible  girl  to  the  lounge,  which  was 
near,  and  tried  to  revive  her.  She  gazed  with  a  pitjfing  expression 
upon  the  pure  young  features,  now  as  pale  and  rigid  as  marble. 

"  It  cannot  be  true,"  she  muttered  to  herself.  "  There  is  no  sin 
here.     I  must,  I  will  save  her.'' 

At  last  Mary  slowly  opened  her  eyes,  and  fixed  them  upon  the  strange 
woman,  who  was  bending  over  her  with  a  look  of  deep  and  tender 
sympathy.  That  look  re-assured  her,  and  she  rose  from  the  couch,  and 
*arning  to  the  stranger,  asked  in  a  tremulous  voice : 

♦*  Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  wish  ?" 

"I  am  your  friend,"  replied  the  woman,  in  a  voice  of  exquisite 
melody,  "  and  I  have  come  ta  save  you.  But  first  tell  me  how  you 
oame  here." 

Mary  gazed  into- her  face  fur  some  time,  and  meeting  again  those  sad 
and  tender  eye?,  she  felt  encouraged,  and  told  her  all  that  had  happened 
to  her. 

"  I  knew  it,'"  said  the  stranger,  in  a  tone  of  relief.  "  Henry  Cameron 
iied  to  me." 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  asked  Mary,  almost  forgetting  her  danger,  in  her 
admiration  of  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  stranger. 

*'  It  is  a  very  long  story,"  haid  the  woman,  in  a  bitter  tone,  "but  I 
will  try  to  make  it  as  short  as  possible.  I  am  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy 
merchant  of  Philadelphia.  Henry  Cameron  won  my  love,  and  profes- 
sed to  love  nae.  He  persuaded  me  to  consent  to  a  private  marriage, 
tor  my  parents  objected  to  him.  We  were  married,  as  I  thought. 
When  he  came  ta  Baltimore  with  General  Cadwallader,  I  came  with 
him.  Four  days  ago  be  came  to  me  and  told  me  that  our  marriage  was 
an  imposture — that  I  am  not  his  wife."  The  strange  woman's  breast 
heaved  convulsively,  her  cheeks  grew  crimson,  and  her  eyes  flashed  as 
she  continued  rapidly,  "  I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  suffered,  bow  I  implored 
him  to  repair  the  wrong  that  he  had  done.  He  told  me  that  he  loved 
another — that  he  would  bring  her  here,  and  marry  her  this  week.  Our 
relations  to  each  other  might  remain  undisturbed,  but  he  was  deter- 
mined to  marry  another.  I  grew  calm,  and  seemed  to  consent  to  his 
arrangement,  but  in  my  heart  I  resolved  upon  a  deep  and  fearful  ven- 
geance. I  could  not  lift  my  hand  against  7tim,  but  I  resolved  that 
when  he  brought  here  the  woman  that  had  weaned  his  love  away  from 
me  she  should  not  live.  When  you  canie,  I  tried  to  reach  you  at  once, 
but  failed.  To-night  I  came  to  take  your  life.  But  when  I  saw  you 
kneeling,  and  heard  you  pray  to  be  delivered  from  this  place  and  ita 
07»ner,  a  new  light  flashed  through  my  mind.     Henry  Cameron-  had 


64  The  Aid-d^-Canif. 

resolved  to  make  you  another  victim  of  his  villainy.     I  see  through  the 
whole  plot  now.     That  prayer  has  saved  you.     God  has  answered  it, 
'  and  I  an'  now  here  to  rescue  you." 

•'  Oh  save  me  !"  cried  the  young  girl  falling  on  her  knees  and  seizing 
the  hand  of  her  unknown  friend.  tSave  me,  and  Heaven  will  ble^s 
you." 

The  woman  gated  at  her  with  a  strangely  sweet  expression,  and  the 
dark  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  Poor  child,"  she  murmured,  "  he  must  indeed  be  a  villain,  who  can 
harbor  a  thought  of  evil  against  you.  But  fear  not.  I  have  promised 
to  save  you,  and  I  will  do  so." 

She  rose  and  assisted  Mary  to  put  on  her  bonnet  and  shawl. 

"  Now,"  paid  she,  "  give  me  your  hand,  and  follow  me  in  silence. 
We  have  no  time  to  lose.  We  ma.y  be  discovered ;  but  we  must  run 
the  risk." 

They  left  the  room  and  entered  a  long,  dark  passage.  Mary  was 
led  rapidly  through  it  by  her  unknown  friend,  and  then  down  a  long 
flight  of  stairs.     Soon  they  were  standing  in  the  street. 

The  night  was  clear,  and  the  cool  river  breeze  felt  refreshing  to  the 
young  girl's  flushed  cheeks.  They  walked  on  some  distance  from  the 
house,  and  soon  turned  into  a  large  and  wide  street.  Here  her  guide 
paused.  ' 

"  This  is  Broadway,"  she  said,  as  she  pressed  Mai-y's  hand.  "  You 
cafi  find  your  way  home  by  following  the  railway  into  Baltimore  street. 
I  must  leave  you  now." 

"  Surely,"  exclaimed  Mary,  in  a  tone  of  astonishment,  "  you  are  not 
going  back  into  that  villain's  power.  Come  with  me.  My  parents  Vrill 
protect  you." 

"  No,"  replied  the  stranger,  gazing  at  her,  sadl3\  ''  I  am  not  fit  to 
go  with  you.     I  have  sinned  too  deeply." 

"  But  you  tinned  unwittingly,"  said  Mary,  as  the  tears  of  sympathy 
came  into  her  eyes.  "  My  parents  will  love  you  for  the  service  that 
you  have  rendered  me.  We  shall  obtain  for  yon  the  forgiveness  of 
your  own  parents,  and  you  shall  be  restored  to  your  home  again." 

'"  It  cannot  be,"  said  the  strange  woman,  mournfully.  "  Villain  as 
he  is,  I  love  Henry  Cameron  too  well  to  leave  him.  I  feel  that  my  fate 
is  linked  with  his.     I  must  return.     Farewell." 

She  clasped  the  young  girl  in  her  arms,  and  pressing  a  kiss  upon  her 
lips,  hurried  away.  Mary  stood  gazing  after  her  with  tear-dimmed 
eyes,  and  wondered  how  a  woman  so  beautiful,  and  of  such  a  noble 
nature,  could  love  a  man  so  depraved  as  Cara«Ton, 


Tne  Aid-de-Oxmp.  66 

A  ■%'oman's  love  once  ■won,  remains  steadfast  and  fauhful  forever. 
Time  and  changes  cannot  alter  it.  It  burns  purely  and  briglitlj  amid 
care  and  sorrow,  coldness  and  neglect.  All  things  el'se  change,  but  it 
remains  the  same.  Woman  brought  woe  into  the  world  by  her  first 
sin,  and  God  in  pity,  planted  in  her  breast  that  holy  love,  which  han- 
made  earth  almost  an  Eden,  and  without  which  Heaven  itself  would 
seem  lonely.  From  his  cradle  to  his  grave,  it  watches  over  man  with 
a  tender  and  noble  devotion.  It  guards  his  infancy,  blesses  his  prime 
comforts  his  age,  and  cheers  his  dying  hour.  It  asks  nothing  but  ?, 
return  of  love — that  a  spark  of  its  own  divine  fire  liiay  enter  into  and 
fill  the  heart  "beloved,  expanding  and  beautifying  it,  and  encirclinj^ 
man's  liTe  with  a  nobleness  and  truth  that  tis  own  nature  is  powerless 
to  'besto'fr. 

Mary  watehed  the  stranger  until  she  had  passed  out  of  sight.  Then 
slie  hastened  into  Baltimore  street,  and  hurried  homewards.  The 
streets  were  almost  deserted,  though  it  was  not  quite  eleven  o'clock. 

She  reached  her  father'?  house  in  safety.  A  light  was  barning  ia 
the  hall.  She  rang  the  boll,  and'  in  a  few  moments  the  door  w^.m 
opened,  and  she  was  clasped  in  her  brothers  arms.  He  bore  her  into 
the  parlor  where  her  parents  were  seated,  with  sad  hearts,  for  they  had 
despaired  of  seeing  her  again.  It  "was  a  joyful  meeting.  When  all 
parties  grew  calm,  Mary  told  of  her  capture,  imprisonmerit  and  escape. 
That  night  prayers  of  thankfulness  went  up  to  God,  and  the  unknowa 
woman,  who  had  caused  all  this  joy,  was  not  forgotten  in  them. 

As  soon  as  Mr,  Worthington  had  been  informed  by  Marshall  of  tt,.; 
abd-uction  of  his  daughter,  he  searched  for  her  in  every  direction. 
On  the  next  morning  he  went  to  Marshall's  ofiice,  to  ascertain  whether 
the  young  man  had  discovered  any  trace  of  the  absent  one.  To  his 
astonishment  he  learned  that  Marshall  had  been  arrested  and  convejf  d 
to  Fort  McHenry.  He  immediately  procured  a  carriage,  drove  to  the 
Fort,  and  requested  permission  to  see  the  prisoner.  His  request  ^as 
refused,  and  he  was  ordered  away  from  the  Fort.  He  returned  to  ti.e 
city,  and  passed  the  day  in  searching  for  his  child.  He  returned  hooA.e 
at  night,  and  in  answer  (o  his  wife's  eager  inquiries,  replied  that  Lr 
had  learned  nothing.  Th^family  were  assembled,  with  sad  hearts,  and 
in  silence,  in  the  parlor  that  aight,  when  they  were  aroused  by  the 
ringing  of  the  bell.  The  Eurprise  that  awaited  tlltem  was  joyful  beyond 
description. 

The  morning  after  hra  siater'e  return,  Charlie  Worthington  went  lo 

Fort  McHenry,  and  asked  to  see  Captain  Cflmeron.     He  was  informed 

that  the  Captain  had  left  that  morning  for  Philadelphia,  and  would  ixot 

be  back  for  a  week.     He  returned  boiae;  reeolving  to  await  Captala 

5 


9S  The  Aid-de-Cuvip. 

Cameron's  return,  when  he  would  make  him.  account  to  Him  for  Eb- 
conduct  to  his  sister. 

That  afternoon  Mary  glanced  over  the  evening  edition  of  the 
"  American,"  when  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  following  paragraph  : 

"Mysterious  Affair.^— '^hh  morning  the  body  of  a  female  of  cKtra- 
ordinary  beauty  was  found  floating  in  the  harbor  at  Fell's  Point.  Mark? 
cf  violence  were  found  iipon  her  person,  and  a  deep  wound  had  been 
inflicted  just  over  the  heart.  The  coroner's  j^ury  decided  that  she 
came  to  her  death  frotr.  the  effects  of  a  wound  inflicted  by  the  hands' 
of  some  unknown  persci:.  Nothicg  hc-s  been  discovered  which  may 
lead  to  the  detection  of  the  murdtier,  A  deep  mystery  shrouds  the 
whole  affair.  Who  the  unfortunate  woman  was  whose  wonderful  beauty 
and  sad  fate  have  excited  so  much  sympathy  in  her  behalf,  we  know 
not.  She  was,  doubtless,  one  of  those  unfortunate  beings,  whose  bitter 
lives  too  often  close  in  this  tragic  manner." 

Mary  was  satisfied  that  this  unfortunate  woman  was  her  preserver? 
who  had  fallen  a  victim  to  Caiaeron's  anger,  when  he  discovered  her 
escape.  She  shuddered  with  horror  at  the  thought.  But  she  could 
not  consent  to  allow  her  to  be  buried  in  the  place  assigned  to  such 
unfortunates  for  their  last,,  deep  sleep,  so  she  urged  her  father  to  have 
the  body  interred  in  his  own  bt  in  G-reea  Mount.  This  he  readily 
promised  her.  But  when  she  urged  him  to  take  some  steps  to  have 
the  murderer  brought  to  justice,  he  replied  : 

"  That  I  cannot  do.  We  can  prove  nothing,  so  we  must  remain 
quiet.  We  shall  only  get  ourselves  into  trouble  by  attempting  to  inves- 
tigate this  matter." 

Since  her  escape,  Mary  had  thought  often  and  anxiously  of  her 
lover,  languishing  in  hia  prison.  On  this  evening  she  approached  her 
brother,  and  taking  him  aside,  said  to  him : 

"  Charlie,  is  it  possible  for  me  to  see  Edward  V' 

"  No,"  replied  her  brother,  "  he  is  not  allowed  to  see  aay  one." 

"Bat  I  must  see  him,"  she  continued,  earnestly. 

"  That  is  impossible,"  said  Charlie,  sadly. 

"  It  is  not  impossible,"  she  replied  energ«tically.  "  We  must  try  tc 
get  him  out.  I  have  a  plan  which  I  know  will  succeed.  Listen  to 
me,  and  I  will  tell  it  to  you." 

She  spoke  rapidly  and  earnestly,  as  she  related  to  him  a  plan,  which 
she  had  conceived,  for  Marshall's  escape  from  the  Fort.  Charlie 
listened  attentively,  and  whenshe  hadtiaished  caught  her  in  his  arms, 
atid  gave  her  a  hearty  kiss. 

^'By  George,  Mary,"  he  exclaimed,  eathusiaetically,  "you  are  worth 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  67 

:i  thousand  snch  men  as  I  am.     I  never  would  have  thought  of  this. 
I'll  do  as  you  say,  and  wc  can  try  it,  at  all  events." 

The  next  afternoon  a  carriage  drove  up  to  Fort  McIIenry,  and  a  lady 
and  gentleman  alighted  from  it,  and  asked  to  see  General  Cadwallader. 
They  were  shown  into  his  presence.  The  gentleman  introduced  him- 
self as  Mr.  Hopkins  cff  Baltimore,  and  the  lady  as  Miss  Marshall, 

"  Miss  Marshall  has  come,  General,"  said  he,  to  solicit  a  short  inter- 
view with  her  brother,  who  is  now  confined  in  the  Fort." 

"  It  cannot  be  granted,  sir,"  said  General  Cadwallader,  sternly 
"  State  prisoners  are  not  allowed  to  see  any  one." 

The  lady  begged  earnestly  to  be  allowed  to  see  the  prisoner,  an<i 
after  much  solicitation  General  Cadwallader  consented  to  allow  her  an 
interview  for  half  an  hour.  She  thanked  him  warmly,  and  followed 
the  officer,  whom  he  summoned  to  conduct  her  to  the  cell  of  the 
prisoner. 

Edward  Marshall,  since  his  confinement,  had  seen  no  one  but  a 
soldier  who  brought  him  his  meals  of  bread  and  water.  Ho  was  sit- 
ting with  his  face  buried  in  his  hands,  indulging  in  the  most  painful 
reveries.  Suddenly  he  heard  the  door  open,  and  some  one  enter,  and 
then  the  door  was  closed.  He  looked  up,  and  saw  a  lady  gazing  at 
him.  He  rose  to  his  feet,  and  in  a  moment  he  sprang  forward  and 
clasped  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Mary,  dear  Mary,"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of  delight, 'i  this  is 
indeed  a  welcome  visit.  But  tell  me  how  came  you  here  ?  Where  is 
Cameron  ?". 

"  I  must  talk  quickly,"  said  she,  smiling  through  her  tears,  "  for  I 
have  much  to  tell  you,  and  only  half  an  hour  to  stay." 

Then  she  told  him  all  that  had  happened  to  her  since  their  last  meet- 
ing. 

"  Thank  God,"  he  inurmured,  as  he  drew  her  closer  to  him,  "  you 
are  safe  now.  I  can  bear  this  imprisonment  more  patiently  now.  It 
was  indeed  kind  in  you  to  come  here." 

"  I  am  heri  as  your  sister,"  said  Mary, "  and  I  have  come  to  enable 
you  to  escape." 

vShe  produced  two  packages,  which  she  had  eop.'Cealed  upon  her  frer- 
son. 

"  These  bundles,"  she  continued,  "  contain  a  life-preserver,  a  coil  of 
rope,  and  a  set  of  burglar's  tools.  With  the  last  named  articles,  you 
<!an  cut  away  the  bars  of  your  window,  and  escape  from  this  cell. 
Once  out  of  it,  I  rely  upon  your  own  ing^uity  to  get  out  of  the  Fort, 
You  must  go  to  the  river  and  swim  across  to  tlie  Anne  Arundle  shore — 
the  bridges  are  guarded.     Charlie  and  I  will  wait  for  you  with  a  horse, 


68        '  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

about  a  mile  down  tHe  Annapolis  road,  at  midnight.     You  will  find  in 
the  bundles  everything  that  you  need." 

"  You  are  a  treasure,  Mary,"  cried  Marshall,  kissing  her  gratefully. 

"  Wait  until  you  are  out  of  thi.g  place,  and  then  thank  me,"  she  said 
gently. 

The  half  hour  passed  quickly  away.  The  officer  who  had  conducted 
her  thither,  entered  the  apartment,  and  informed  her  that  the  time 
had  expired. 

"Good  bye,  brother,"  she  said,  with  a  smile,  as  she  rose  to  go  away 
Marshall  bent  over  and  kissed  her,  and  told  her  that  she  must  com? 
again.  As  she  reached  the  door,  Mary  turiied  to  her  lover  with  a  smile 
of  encouragement,  and  then  left  the  room. 

"When  he  was  alone,  Marshall  opened  his  bundles.  In  one  of  them 
he  found  a  lifepreeerver,  and  a  coil  of  rope  in  the  other,  a  burglar's 
file,  saw  and  knife,  and  a  small  pnial  of  oil.  He  examined  them 
closely  and  found  them  in  excellent  order.  Then  he  concealed  them 
in  his  bed,  until  he  should  need  them. 

About  nine  o'clock  an  officer  entered  the  room  to  see  if  all  were 
safe.  Marshall  was  lying  on  the  bed,  pretending  to  be ^siecp.  The 
officer  flashed  the  light  of  the  lantern  in  his  face,  gazed  ni  him  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  then  passed  out. 

When  he  thought  that  it  was  time  to  begin  his  work,  Marshall  re- 
moved the  crystal  from  his  watch,  and  felt  along  the  face  to  ascertain 
the  position  of  the  hands,  for  it  was  too  dark  to  eec  them.  A.s  well  n« 
ha  could  determine  the  time  in  this  way,  he  found  that  it  was  almost 
eleven  o'clock.  He  placed  hi.s  life-preserver  around  him,  and  moved 
the  table  quietly  to  the  window.  Mounting  upon  it,  he  took  out  hj« 
fine  burglar's  saw  and  began  cutting  the  bars,  "using  the  oil  to  dampen  the 
metal  and  prevent  any  noise  being  made.  He  cut  away  bar  after  bar. 
and  laid  them  silently  upon  the  floor,  until  only  one  remained.  He 
was  some  time  in  accomplishing  this,  and  his  heart  beat  violently,  and 
his  breath  came  quickly,  as  he  worked  upon  the  remaining  bar.  Sud- 
denly, just  as  the  bar  was  cut  through,  hia  hand  slipped  and  knocked 
the  heavy  iron  r!>d  out  of  the  window.  It  fell  to  the  ground  with  u 
heavy  sound,  and  Marshall  crouched  down  from  the  window  in  alarm. 
He  trembled  violently,  aa  he  heard  th«  rough  challenge  of  the  sentin*'! 
on  the  ramparts  just  above  him  :  , 

"  Who  goes  there  ?" 

A  cat  had  been  frightened  from  its  place  of  rest  under  the  window 
by  the  fall  of  the  bar,  and  darted  off  in  the  direction  of  the  rampar*, 
Marshall  heard,  with  delight,  the  sentinel  mutter,  as  he  passed  on  • 

'•'Curse  that  cat.     That's  twice  to-n'ght  it  has  startled  me." 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  ...  09 

lie  waited  for>a  few  minutes  until  everything  grew  quiet.  Then  he 
climbed  through  the  window,  which  w^s  not  far  from  the  ground,  and 
let  himself  drop  gently  into  the  yard  of  the  Fort.  He  crouched  in 
silence'  for  a  moment  in  the  shadow  of  the  wall,  and  guzed  around  him. 
Having  ascertained  the  exact  position  of  everything,  he  crept  slowly 
and  stealthily  towards  the  rampart  facing  the  back  branch  of  the  Pa- 
tapsco.  He  reached  it,  and  then  gazed  down  below  him,  and  arOund 
him  Before  him  and  on  either  side  lay  the  river,  with  a  scor3  of 
lights  twinkling  upon  it,  and  reflecting  in  its  clear  bospm  the  millions 
of  stars  that  were  gemming  the  Heavens.  The  breeze  blew  coolly  iu 
from  the  bay,  and  the  waters  rippled  upon  the  sliore  with  a  low,  mur- 
muring sound.  Back  of  him  was  the  city  with  its  dark  structures  and 
long  rows  of  lights. 

Marshall  did  not  pause  long  to  observe  these  things,  but  leaning 
over  the  rc^mpart,  fastened  his  rope  to  one  of  the  long  black  guns  that 
projected  over  the  wall.  He  had  just  made  it  fast  when  he  heard 
footsteps  approaching.  He  crouched  down  in  the  shadow  of  the  gun- 
carriage  and  remained  perfectly  quiet  and  motionless.  Soon  a  sentinel 
approached,  and  pausing  by  the  gun-carriage,  rested  his  musket  on 
the  ground  and  leaned  upon  it. 

•'.I  wonder  what  they  are  doing  in  old  Virgiany  to-night,"  he  mut- 
tered, as  he  gazed  over  the  river.  '•'  By  George  !  1  would  like  to  be 
there." 

He  etoo^  for  several  minutes,  which  seemed  to  Marshall  like  ages, 
and  then  took  up  his  musket  and  passed  on.  Marshall  watched  him 
until  he  was  out  of  sight,  and  then  creeping  .t©  the  edge  of  the  ram- 
part, seized  the  rope,  and  lowered  himself  quickly  to  the  ground  with- 
out •  He  was  row  free  from  the  Fort,  but  the  danger  was  not  yet 
passed.  As  he  reached  the  ground,  a  wjld  and  joyful  sensation  passed 
through  his  frame  j  he  was  a  freeman  once  more,  and  with  God's  help 
he  would  remain  so.  He  hastened  along  the  shore  until  he  reached  a 
point  some  distance  above  the  Fort.  He  was  an  excellent  swimmer, 
but  the  river  was  wide,  and  the  night  dark  and  cold.  He  removed  his 
clothes  and  fastened  them  iu  a  bundle,  which  he  tied  to  his  head. 
Then  inflating  his  life-preserver,  he  fastened  it  around  him,  and  en- 
tered the  water,  which  chilled  his  very  blood.  He  struck  out  boldly 
from  the  shore,  and  was  soon  fairly  out  into  the  stream.  After  a  con- 
siderable length  of  time  he  reached  the  Anne  Arundel  shore.  '  Here 
he  dressed  himself,  and  glancing  at  his  watch,  saw  by  the  clear  star- 
light, that  it  was  two  o'clock.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  that  por- 
tion of  the  country  and  was  enabled  to  reach  the  Annapolis  road  with- 
out delay. 


70  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

Hastening  on,  he  soon  discovered  three  dusky  oLjects  standing  in 
the  road  some  distance  ahead  of  him.  He  hurried  on  and  discovered 
that  the^'  were  three  horses  which  were  being  held  by  a  man.  A  wo- 
man was  fitanding  in  the  road  near  them.  Marshall  advanced  to  meet 
her,  and  she  sprang  to  him  with  a  cry  of  joy. 

"  Free,  Mary,  free,  thanks  to  you,  darling,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he 
clasped  her  in  his  arms. 

"I  feared  that  you  had  failed,  you  were  so  late,"  she  said  as  she 
clung  closely  to  him.  Then  she  added,  "  Here  is  Charlie  holding  the 
horses." 

Mar,shall  advanced  and  greeted  his  friend. 

"I  must  thank  you,  too,"  he  said,  as  he  grasped  Charlie's  hand, 
warmly.  "  Both  of  you  have  proved  true  friends  in  the  hour  ot 
need." 

"We  have  no  time  for  talking,  Marshall,"  said  Charlie.  Put  Mary 
on  her  horse,  and  then  mount  this  one.  I  went  to  your  room  to-day 
and  packed  a  small,  portmanteau  with  some  necessary  articles.  I  have 
strapped  it  to  your  saddle.  Father  found  a  check  with  your  name  to 
it,  in  your  check  book,  and  he  has  drawn  all  your  money  out  of  the 
Bank.  Here  it  is,"  he  added,  handing  him  a  heavy  pocket  book.  "  In 
this  pocket  book  you  will  find  a  paper  with  directions  for  your  route, 
and  where  to  stop.  Now  let's  be  off.  We  will  ride  a  mile  or  two 
with  you." 

Marshall  then  placed  Mary  on  her  horse,  and  mounted  his  own. 
They  set  off.  In  about  an  hour  he  bade  his  friends  farewell,  and 
they  turned  back  towards  Baltimore.  He  watched  them  until  they 
were  out  of  sight,  and  then  set  off  at  a  gallop. 

The  first  and  second  days  of  his  journey  passed  away  without  the 
occurrence  of  anything  unusual.  On  the  third  day  he  entered  Saint 
Mary's  county.  He  stopped  at  a  country  inn  to  procure  something  to 
eat,  about  noon.  After  he  had  finished  his  dinner,  he  sat  on  the  gal- 
lery smoking  a  cigar,  and  conversing  with  the  landlord,  whom  he  dis- 
covered to  be  a  Southern  man.  Suddenly  the  latter  uttered  an  excla- 
mation'of  surprise,  and  gazed  up  the  road  in  the  direction  from  which 
Mar.shall  had  come.  Marshall  gazed  in  the  direction  indicated  by  the 
landlord,  and  saw  a  Federal  officer  followed  by  six  dragoons,  coming 
down  the  road. 

"  It  is  too  late  to  escape,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  landlord.  "  We 
must  trick  them.  Go  into  the  house,  and  if  they  ask  you  who  I  am, 
say  that  I  am  a  Government  agent,  and  that  I  am  awaiting  an  escort 
of  cavalry  which  I  have  sent  down  the  road." 

The  landlord  entered  the  housCj  and  JIarshall  remained  in  his  seat. 


The  Aid-de  Gamp.  71 

rmoking  with  apparent  indiffeience.  The  Yankee  troops  approached 
rapidly  and  soon  reached  the  inn.  They  dismounted  and  fa^sten-id 
their  horses,  and  entered  the  house.  As  they  passed  Marshall,  he 
nodded  carclesely  to  them.  They  returned  his  salutation,  and  gaced 
searchingly  at  him. 

Approaching  the  ;andlord,'the  officer  asked  sternly: 

*<  Who  is  that  man  in  the  porch  ?" 

"That  man,"  said  the  landlord,  laughing  good  humorcdly,  "is  the 
•bitterest  .Yankee  that  I  ever  saw.  If  you'll  take  my  advice,  gentlemen , 
you'll  let  him  alon?.  He  !s  a  Government  agent,  or  something  of  the 
kind,  and  has  come  down  here  to  hunt  up  Secessionists.  I  heard  him 
talk  pretty  sharply  to  a  Brigadier  General  who  was  here  with  him 
about  three  hours  ago.  He  sent  him  away  somewhere,  and  is  waiting 
•for  him  now.     I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  it's  Mr.  Seward  himself." 

"  Oh,  ho.!"  said  the  officer,  knowingly,  "  if  that's  the  case,  I'll  stand 
-around.  I  heard  that  there  was  a  Secessionist  here,  and  I  came  to 
■^atch  him.'* 

"  No,"  said  the  landlord,  "  that  gentleman  and  the  General  that  he's 
waiting  for  are  all  that  ha^e  been  here  to-day." 

"  Then  I'll  get  back  to  camp,"  said  the  officer,  and  he  left  the  room, 
'followed  by  his  men.  As  he  passed  out,  he  glanced  respectfully  at 
.Marshall,  who  was  sitting  quietly  smoking.  He  rose,  and  approaching 
■them,  asked,  with  an  appearance  of  interest: 

"  What  is  ihe  matter,  gentlemen?     Is  anything  wrong  ?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  the  officer.  "We  heard  that  a  Secessionist  was 
■here,  and  we  came  after  him." 

"  No  one  has  been  here  sijiee  !f  arrived,"  said  Marshall.  "  You  were 
.snisiaformed." 

"I  expeetso,  sir,"  said  the  Lieutanant.     "Good  day,  sir." 

He  left  the  porch,  followed  by  his  men.  They  mounted  their  horses 
;and  set  off  rapidly.  Maxshall  watched  them  until  they  were  out  oi 
•sight,  and  then  turning  to  the  landlord,  asked,  as  he  broke  into  a  load 
^augh: 

"Well,  landlord,  what  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"  It  was  capital,"  said  the  host,  whose  fat  sides  shook  with  mirth. 
"  They  are  the  greenest  fools  that  I  ever  saw."* 

Marshall  bade  adieu  to  the  landlord,  and  continued  his  journey  to- 
wards the  Potomac.  He  reached  the  river  in  good  time  and  crossed 
■safely  into  Virginia. 

*The  incident  related  above  happened  to  a  friend  of  the  author  on  his  way 
from  Maryland  to  Virginia  in  186). 


72  The  Aid'de-Ca^np. 

After  Marolia.Il  parted  from  Mary  and  her  brother,  they  returnei 
slowly  and  crossed  the  Long  Bridge  about  daylight.  Mr.  and  Mry. 
Worthington  were  delighted  with  the  success  of  Mary's  scheme,  and 
the  old  gentleman,  fondly  kissing  her,  called  her  his  little  heroine. 
The  evening  papers  were  filled  with  long  accounts  of  the  visit  of  Mar- 
gaall's  sister  to  him,  and  his  escape  from  the  Fort.  The  aflFair  created 
considerable  excitement.  Efforts  were  made  to  discover  Mr.  Hopkins 
and  the  young  lady,  but  they  were  unsuccessful. 

About  three  weeks  after  this,  Mr,  Worthington  was  warned  by  a 
friend  that  he  would  be  arrested  in  a  few  days  by  the  military  authori- 
ties. He  left  Baltimore  with  his  family,  and  settled  in  St.  Mary's 
county^  Here  he  was  so  much  annoyed  by  the  enemy's  troops  that  he 
crossed  over  to  Virginia,  and  moved  to  Richmond. 


A' 


CHAPTER  VI. 

FTEPi  he  readied  Virginia,  Marshall  hastened  to  Richmond,  and 
r\  iniraediately  made  application  for  a  commiasion.  lie  received  it, 
■j.nd  was  ordered  to  report  to  General  Johnston  at  Harper's  Ferry.  He 
at  once  left  Richmond,  and  soon  reached  that  place.  This  was  the  first 
of  June. 

A  large  force  had  been  collected  at  Harper's  Ferry,  and  placed  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  Thomas  J.  JacksoQ.  On  the  23rd  of  May 
tJeneral  Joseph  E.  Johnston,  of  the  Confederate  army,  assumed  com- 
mand of  the  troops  assembled  there. 

Marshall  had  never  seen  so  large  an  army  before,  and  the  scene  was 
uovel  and  interesting.  On  the  morning  after  his  arrival  he  rose  very 
«^arly,  and  walked  down  to  the  Railroad  Bridge,  and  pause*  to  survey 
the  scene. 

On  all  sides  of  him  the  mountains  rose  high  above  him,  and  through 
the  pass,  the  Potomac  rushed  foaming  and  dashing  over  its  rocky  bed, 
while  the  quiet  "  Daughter  of  the  Stars,"  the  romantic  Shenandoah, 
swept  gracefully  around  from  her  home  in  the  hills,  to  mingle  her 
peaceful  waters  with  the  angry  torrent  of  the  lordly  Potomac,  which 
seemed  to  flow  gentler  and  softer  after  the  union.  From  the  lofty 
heights  on  the  Maryland  shore,  the  dark  heavy  guns  frowned  down 
upon  the  little  village,  and  the  white  tents  of  the  army  thickly  dotted 
the  dark  sides  of  the  mountain  on  every  hand.  The  drums  were  beat- 
ing the  reveille,  and  the  camps  were  soon  alive  with  human  beings. 

During  the  day  Marshall  had  nothing  to  do,^  he  crossed  to  the  Mary- 
land shore,  and  walked  up  the  river  some  distance,  happy  to  be  ia 
Maryland  again.  He  was  deeply  imbued  with  a  spirit  of  earnest  piety, 
und  the  scene  around  him  impressed  him  powerfully  with  the  majesty 
and  gloYy  of  its  Creator. 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  any  one  can  stand  upon  the  shore  of 
the  Potomac  at  Harper's  Ferry,  where  the  mountains  are  cleft  in  twain 
by  the  mighty  river  as  it  foams  and  dashes  over  the  rocks  that  seek  to 
impede  its  way,  as  if  in  its  wrath  it  would  sweep  them  from  its  path, 
and  hear  the  ceaseless  roar  of  the  torrent  as  it  chaunts  its  sublime 
hymn  of  praise  to  God,  and  see  the  grand  old  mountains  lift. up  thei? 
heads  to  Heaven,  everlasting  witnesses  of  the  majesty,  the  power  and 


74.  -  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

the  goodness  of  the  Almighty,  without  feeling  his  heart  touehcd  4nd 
subdued  with  reverential  awe.  Truly  God  manifests  His  glory  every- 
where in  His  works,  but  nowhere  mere  strikingly  than  at  this  place. 
The  scene  may  lack  that  calui  beauty  which  so  often  captivates  the  eye, 
but  it  is  awful  in  its  grandeur  and  terrible  in  it-s  sublimity. 

Marshall  was  deeply  impressed  by  the  scene.  The  impulse  was 
powerful,  and  he  coald  not  resist  it.  He  turned  into  a  clump  of  bushes, 
and  falling  on  his  knees,  lifted  up  his  soul  in  prayer. 

As  he  rose  from  his  knees  the  bushes  parted,  and  a  man  stepped 
from  among  them.  lie  was  rather  tall,  and  broadly  and  squarely  built. 
His  hair  was  dark  and  short,  and  his  beard  and  moustache  were  closely 
trimmed.  There  wae  a  mild,  but  firm  expression  upon  his  face,  and 
his  eyes  shone  with  a  calm  and  tranquil  light.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
g)lain  gray  uniform,  and  the  three  stars  upon  his  coat  collar  told  that  he 
held  the  rank  of  Colonel  in  the  Confederate  army.  He  was  a  man  that 
one  would  trust  at  a  glance.  One  felt  from  the  moment  that  he  saw 
him  that  he  was  of  iron  will  and  great  genius.  He  advanced  to  Mar- 
shall, and  with  a  smile,  whose  "wondrous  aweetness  none  could  resist, 
held  out  h*  hand  to  him. 

*'  Pardon  me  for  intruding  upon  you,  sir,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  kindly 
.  interest,  "this  is  a  eight  so  rarely  witnessed  here,  that  I  cannot  help 
commending  it  whenever  I  see  it.  My  name  is  Jackson,  and  I  am 
very  glad  to  meet  you.     May  I  ask  your  name  ?" 

Marshall  took  his  hand,  and  told  him  his  name.  He  gazed  at  him 
with  interest.  Colonel  Jackson  was.  already  well  known  to  the  public, 
and  Marshall  felt  that  he  was  yet  to  be  one  of  the  master  spirits  of  the 
war. 

Colonel  Jackson  was  going  to  Harper's  Ferry,  and  asked  him  to. 
accompany  him.  He  questioned  him  in  regard  to  his  position  in  the 
army. 

"  I  have  not  been  assigned  to  any  regular  duty,"  said  Marshall,  "and 
am  now  awaiting  orders." 

"  If  you  do  not  object,"  said  Colonel  Jackson,  "  I  will  ask  General 
Johnston  to  let  me  have  you  as  an  Aid.  I  am  cemmanding  the  first 
Brigade  of  this  army,  and  I  shall  need  you." 

Marshall  replied  that  he  would  be  very  glad  indeed  if  such  an 
arrangement  could  Be  made.  When  they  reached  Harper's  Ferry, 
■Colonel  Jackson  paused,  and  grasping  Marshall's  hand,  said  to  him 
earnestly : 

"  I  was  very  much  gratified  by  whtft  I  saw  of  you  to-day.  Continue 
in  the  good  path  you  have  chosen.  Believe  me,  sir,  there  is  nothing 
r.obler  than  a  Christian  soldier.     We  see  too  few  of  them  in  the  army. 


The  Aid-de-Oamp.  75 

We  cannot  expect  God's  blessing  to  rest  upon  us,  if  we  are  forgetful  of 
Him.     Continue- to  pray,  and  you  will  alw^^ys  bo  successful." 

He  turned  away  and  walked  towards  General  Johnston's  head- 
quarters, and  Marshall  repaired  to  his  tent,  to  muse  over  his  singular 
interview.  The  nest  day  Colonel  Jackson  sent  for  hin:,  and  told  him 
that  General  Johnston  had  assigned  him  to  duty  on  his  staff.  Marshall 
immediately  entered  upon  his  duties,  and  discharged  them  with  ability 
and  faithfulness.  Colonel  Jackson  was  always  kind  and  ready  to  render 
him  any  service;  but  he  was  silent  and  reserved  in  his  manner  towards 
him,  as  he  was  to  cv«ry  one  else.  On  the  day  that  he  became  acquainted 
with  Marshall,  he  was  surpris!«fd  and»drawn  out  of  himself  by  his  admi- 
ration for  the  young  man's  conduct.  Now  he  sank  back  into  his 
habitual  reserve.  But  this  did  not  mar  the  natural  kindness  of  his 
character.  A  kinder,  truer  gentleman,  a  more  sincere  and  humble 
Christian  never  lived.  Modest  and  retiring  as  a  girl,  brave  as  a  lion 
in  battle,  generous  to  a  fault,  is  it  a  wonder  that  his  troops  love  him? 
Is  it  strange  that  they  shout  for  joy  until  the  Heavens  ring,  whenever 
they  see  the  old  worn  cap,  and  the  faded,  gray  uniform  appear?  But 
why  write  thus  ?  Why  attempt  to  eulogize  Jackson  ?  He  needs  none 
of  this.     He  has  written  his  name  in  every  Southern  soldier's  heart. 

Time  passed  away.  On  the  night  of  the  13th  of  June,  Colonel 
Jackson  informed  Marshall  that  General  Johnston  had  determined  to 
evacuate  Harper's  Ferry. 

"  Have  everything  in  readiness  to  leave  at  a  moment's  warning,"  he 
added. 

On  the  next  day  preparations  for  the  evacuation  were  begun.  The 
heavy  guns  that  could  not  be  removed  were  rendered  unfit  for  service, 
and  rolled  into  the  river.  The  splendid  railroad  bridge  was  blown  up, 
and  the  public  buildings  set  on  fire.  The  flames  rose  rapidly,  and 
were  soon  hissing  and  roaring  around  the  tall  structures.  It  was  a 
grand  scene.  The  heat  in  the  village  was  so  intense  that  the  troops 
could  with  difficulty  perform  the  work  of  removing  the  stores.  Thus 
the  day  passed  away,  and  at  last  all  was  ready.  On  the  15th  of  June 
the  army  left  Harper's  Ferry,  and  marched  towards  Winchester.  On 
the  evening  of  the  same  day  they  encamped  about  a  mile  beyond 
Charlestown. 

The  town  of  Harper's  Ferry  was  built  upon  a  neck  of  land  at  the 
confluence  of  the  Potomac  and  Shenandoah  rivens.  It  was  capable,  at 
tte  time  of  its  occupation  by  General  Johnston,  of  a  successful  defence 
against  any  force  which  the  enemy  could  bring  against  it.  But  it  might 
be  easily  converted  into  a  disadvantage  to  the  South.  The  enemy's 
troops  might  invest  it  at  any  moment,  hold  its  garrison  in  check,  and 


7i-»  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

command  the  "Valley,  or  attack  General  Beauregard  in  the  rear  at  the 
Manassas  Junction.  A  strong  column  of  Federal  troops,  under  Major 
ileneral  Patterson,  was  advancing  through  Maryland,  and  General 
Johnston  had  held  Harper's  Ferry,  only  that  he  might  draw  them  into 
Virginia.  As  soon  as  this  object  was  accomplished,  he  evacuated  the 
place  and  moved  towards  Winchester. 

On  the  morning  after  he  encamped  at  Charlestown,  he  heard  that 
the  enemy's  advanced  brigade,  under  General  Gadwallader,  had  crossed 
the  Potomac  at  Williamsport,  and  was  advancing  upon  Martinsburg. 
General  Johnston  immediately  wheeled  his  army  to  the  right,  and 
marched  north  towards  Martinsbutg.  It  now  became  known  among' 
the  troops  that  they  were  advancing  to  meet  the  enemy,  and  they 
broke  into  loud  aad  enthusiastic  cheers.  The  men  were  raw  and  unused 
to  the  fatigues  of  a  march,  but  they  bore  them  with  patience,  and 
pushed  forward  cheerfully,  urged  ou  by  the  prospect  of  a  speedy 
engagement  with  the  hated  foe. 

General  Gadwallader  had  crossed  the  Potomac  and  was  advancing 
into  Virginia,  as  he  supposed,  to  pursue  a  flying  foe,  for  he  had  heard 
of  the  evacutation  of  Harper's  Ferry.  He  had  scarcely  entered  Vir- 
ginia, when  he  was  informed  that  General  Johnston,  whom  he  supposed 
to  be  retreating,  was  advancing  to  meet  him.  For  a  moment  the  Yan- 
kee General  was  completely  nonplussed.  Then  thinking  diseretion  the 
better  part  of  valor,  he  re-crossed  the  Potomac;  and  retreated  into 
Maryland,  and  did  not  pause  until  he  reached  the  main  body  of  Patter- 
Km's  army  at  Hagerstown. 

As  soon  as  General  Johnston  heard  of  Cadwallader's  retreat,  he 
halted  his  troops.  Then  sending  Colonel  Jackson's  Brigade  towards 
Martinsburg,  to  watch  Patterson,  and  a  detachment  of  his  forces,  under 
Colonel  A.  P.  Hill,  to  occupy  Ptomney  and  watch  McClellan,  who  was 
then  in  Western  Virginia,  and  who  he  feared  might  attempt  to  form  a 
junction  with  Patterson,  General  Johnston  marched  to  Winchester, 

While  engaged  in  watching  Patterson,  Colonel  Jackson  inflicted 
great  damage  upon  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad. 

On  the  3rd  of  July  General  Patterson  crossed  the  Potomac  and 
advanced  towards  Martinsburg.  Colonel  Jackson  broke  up  his  camp 
near  Martinsburg,  and  marched  to  meet  him. 

Arriving  near  Falling  Waters,  he  found  the  enemy  drawn  up  in  line 
of  battle.  He  detached  from  his  command  the  Augusta  regiment^ 
(Colonel  Harper's)  and  one  six  pounder  from  Pendleton's  Battery,  in 
all  not  quite  four  hundred  men,  and  advanced  towards  the  enemy. 

The  Federals  consisted  of  General  .Cad\vallader's  Brigade,  about 
3,000  strong,  and  a  fine  battery  of  artillery.    They  held  a  fine  position, 


The*Aid-de'Ca77ip.     '  '  77 

and  it  seemed  that  they  would  completely  envelope  the  little  band  ([..A. 
advanced  so  fenrloHply  to  meet  them.  Their  skirxniehers  wore  thrown 
out  in  front  of  thcra,  and  aa  Jackson's  men  came  up,  opened  a  rapid 
fire  upon  them.  ITastily  advancing  his  skirmishers  Colonel  Jackso.-i 
ordered"  th^m  to  open  fire  upon  the  enemy.  This  thej  did  with  spirit, 
compelling  the  Federal  marksmen  to  retire  in  confusion  to  their  maiii 
line.  The  Confederate  infantry  weve  the  hardy  mountaineers  ol" 
Augusta,  whose  hands  had  jrrasped  the  rifle  almost  from  infancy,  atirl 
their  fire  was  terribly  destructive.  The  one  six  pounder  gun  tore  grear. 
gaps  in  the  Federal  ranks.  During  the  action,  Colonel  Jackfion^cnt. 
Marshall-to  Captain  Pendleton  with  orders  to  fire  at  a  certain  point 
He  delivered  the  order  and  remained  at  the  battery  to  watch  the  efTcc;. 
of  the  e:hot.  Captain  Pendleton  stood  grimly  by  his  piece,  end  lighted 
it  in  the  direction  indicated. 

"  Ready,"  he  e^jclaimed,  and  the  order  was  obeyed.  Then  raisin'^ 
his  eyes  to  Heaven,  he  cried  earnestly,  "May  the  Lord  have  mercy 
upon  their  poor  souls.     Fire." 

A  flash  and  a  roftr  followed  this  singular  command,  and  tho  shpll 
tore  fatally  through  the  Federal  rank?.  The  gun  was  loaded  again. 
and  the  same  prayer  and  the  same  command  uttered. 

Marshall  could  not  help  .smiling  at  this  singular  exhibition  of  ski-1 
and  pity.  Soon  after  this  he  was  sent  to  the  front  with  orders  to  th^- 
skirmisher'.  As  he  pas93d  along  the  line,  he  glanced  at  the  enemv. 
At  this  moment  an  officer,  evidently  an  Aid,  rode  down  to  the  Federal 
skirmishers.  There  was  something  very  familiar  in  his  appearance,  and 
•as  he  ■was  not  far  ofi^,  Marshall  raised  his  glass  and  looked  at  him.  H(^ 
recognised  him  at  once.  It  was  Captain  Cameron.  He  hurried  dow!i 
to  the  line  of  skirmishers  and  delivered  his  orders.  Then  approaching: 
one  of  the  men,  he  asked  him  to  lend  him  his  rifle.  The  man  hand'  -1 
it  to  him,  and  Marshall  dismounted, 

"  Now,'  said  he  to  the  man,  "  if  you  will  hold  my  hcrse  fora  miant'S 
I  will  try  to  bring  down  one  Yankee  at  least." 

"All  right,  sir,"  said  the  man,  grasping  the  bridle.  "  But  who  do 
you  want  to  shoot  ?" 

"  That  officer,"  replied  Marshall,  pointing  to  Cameron.  "  He  is  an 
old  acquaintance." 

The  man  laughed,  and  MarehaU  raised  the  rifle  to  hie  shoulder,  and 
took  deliberate  aim  at  Cameron,  who  was  now  sitting  on  hie  horae  gazing 
through  h:3  glass  at  the  Confederate  lines.  Marshall  was  an  escolkr.t 
:aiarksm3n,  and  he  aimed  his  rifle  slowly  and  carefully.  The  distar.'?-- 
was  not  very  grent.  Ho  pres.sod  the  trigger,  and  in  an  instant  C:inierc-i 
threw  up  hi.s  arms  and  fell  heavily  from  his  horee. 


T8'  •       The  Aid  de-Camp. 

*'  Good  I"  shouted  the  owner  of  the  rifle.  '^  I  knew  old  Joe  wotlld 
reach  him.  By  Geor^je,  Lieutenant,  that's  the  best  shot  I  ever  saw.  I 
believe  you  have  killed  him.*' 

As  soon  as  he  had  fired,  Marshall  lowered  his  rifle,  and  raised  hio 
glass  to  his  eyes.  He  could  eee  the  men  crowd  around  Cameron,  and 
raise  him  from  the  ground,  and  carry  him  to  the  rear. 

"  No,"  he  said,  as  ht  closed  his  glass,  and  placed  it  in  the  case.  "  I 
saw  him  place  his  hand  to  his  breast.     He  i3  only  wounded." 

Thanking  the  man  lor  the  use  of  his  rifle,  Marshall  mounted  hia 
horse,  and  returned  to  Colonel  Jackson. 

The  fight  continued  ibr  nearly  an  hour  longer.  Finally,  the  enemy 
making  an  attempt  to  outflank  him,  Colonel  Jackson  withdrew  hia 
troops,  and  retired  in  the  direction  of  Martinsburg.  He  had  held  in 
check  for  nearly  two  houra  a  force  greatly  superior  to  his  own,  and  as 
he  nov/  withdrew,  the  enemy  made  no  attempt  to  follow  him.  He  con- 
tined  hia  retreat  until  he  reached  Darksville,  a  little  village  about  five 
or  sis  miles  south  of  M:irtinsburg.  On  the  same  evening  he  was  joined 
by  General  Johnston,  who  had  advanced  from  Winchester  with  the 
main  body  of  the  amy. 

The  report  of  Marshall's  esploit  cpread  rapidly  through  the  army, 
and  whenever  he  passed  them,  the  men  pointed  to  him  and  said : 

"  There  goes  the  man  that  made  that  good  shot  with  Alick  Gray's 
rifle." 

On  Wednesday,  July  5th,  General  Patterson's  army,  twenty  thou- 
sand strong,  entered  Martinsburg. 

General  Johnston  disposed  his  troops  in  order  of  battle,  and 
awaited  the  advance  of  the  enemy.  But  General  Patterson  was  in  no 
hurry  to  meet  him.  lie  preferred  remaining  at  a  safe  distance.  General 
Johnston  waited  four  days  for  him,  and  then  finding  that  the  latter  did 
not  intend  meeting  him,  retired  to  Winchester. 

At  first  the  troops  thought  that  they  were  running  from  the  enemy 
and  refused  to  march,  and  it  required  all  the  persuasive  eloquence  of 
General  Johnston  to  induce  them  to-  fall  back.  They  did  so  sullenly 
and  discontentedly,  not  dreaming  how  soon  their  great  Commander  would 
lead  them  to  immortal  glory. 

During  the  march  the  men  suffered  very  much.  While  advancing 
to  meet  the  enemy,  they  had  not  complained,  but  now  when  they  had 
no  such  excitement  to  encourage  them,  they  flagged  and  straggled 
very  much.          • 

On  the  first  day  of  the  march  Marshall  was  riding  near  the  Augusta 
regiment,  when  he  hea.rd  some  one  exclaim  : 

"  I  say,  Lieutenuuti"  '         . 


The  Aid-de-Cmwp.  TO* 

He  looted  around  and  saw  the  man  whose  rifle  he  had  used  at  Fall- 
ing Waters.     He  checked  his  horse  and  rode  by  him. 

"I  say,  Lieutenant,*'  continued  the  man.  "We  are  not  running 
away  from  the  Yankees;  are  we?" 

"  Oh,  no !"  said  Marshall,  smiling,  "  General  Johnston  has  laid  s 
trap  for  them,  and  he  i3  now  trying  to  draw  them  into  it.  Take  him 
at  his  word,  and  wait.  You'll  have  fighting  enough  before  this  month: 
is  out." 

"  I'm  mighty  glad  to  hear  you  sayj^at,"  said  the  man,  his  counte-- 
nance,  as  well  as  those  of  the  men  who  heard  the  conversation,  bright' 
ening.  "  We'd  rather  die  than  run.  'Twouldn't  do  for  us  to  go  back 
to  Augusta,  and  say  that  we  ran  away  from  the  Yankees.  The  gals- 
wouldn't  notice  us." 

Marshall  laughed,  and  replied  J 

"  You  need  not  fear.     The  girls  will  be  proud  of  you  yet." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  cried  a  score  of  voices.  "  We  see  how  it  is  now- 
Old  Joe  Johnston  knows  what  he's  up  to." 

This  conversation,  unimportant  as  it  may  seem,  had  a  woaderfui 
effect  upon  the  men.  It  was  repeated  throughout  the  brigade  with 
numerous  additions  and  embellishments.  It  inspired  fresh  confidence 
in  the  Commanding  General,  and  the  troops  pushed  on  with  mors  cheer- 
fulness than  before.  At  last  Winchester  was  reached,  and  the  army 
encamped  around  the  town. 

In  a  day  or  two  Colonel  Jackgon  received  an  appointment  as  Briga- 
dier General,  as  a  reward  for  his  services,  and  especially  his  conduct  at 
Falling  Waters.     Marshall  was  continued  as  an  Aid-de-Camp. 

I  must  now  pass  rapidly  over  events.  On  the  15th  of  Jul}',  Colonel 
Stuart,  commanding  the  cavalry  of  the  army  of  the  Shenandoah, 
reported  the  advance  of  the  enemy  from  Martinsburg.  General 
Johnston  prepared  to  receive  them,  if  they  made  their  appearance  j 
but  General  Patterson  halted  at  Bunker  Hill,  nine  miles  distant.  On 
17th  of  July  he  suddenly  m.oved  to  the  left  and  occupied  Smithfield. 
The  Federal  army  now  held  a  position  which  would  enable  it  oither  to 
attack  Winchester  or  to  hold  General  Johnston  in  check,  and  prevent 
him  from  going  to  the  relief  of  General  Beauregard  at  Manassas 
Junction. 

On  the  morning  of  the  18th  of  July,  General  Johnston  was  in- 
formed that  the  enemy  were  advancing  upon  Manassas  from  Alexandria, 
and  he  at  once  resolved  to  go  to  the  assistance  of  General  Beauregard. 
He  had  for  some  time  understood  the  plans  of  the  enemy,  and  had  re- 
solved upon  his  own  course.     His  eagle  eye  had  penetrated  the  secrets 


80  The  Aid-de-Camp.' 

oT  the  Fedcra]  comisa-ndeTS,  ann  his  fertile  genius  had  prepared  a  plar. 
for  their  destruction. 

Leaving  his  sick  at  "Winchester,  he  set  out.  '  Evading  Patterson  b^ 
'Jie  disposition  of  his  cavalry,  he  passed  through  the  Blue  Ridge  at- 
Ai=hbj's  Gap,  and  mcved  towards  Piedmont.  The  lii arch  was  painful, 
ind  was  performed  under  a  burning  July  sun.  The  men  suffered  fear 
Ailly  from  the  heat,  and  for  want  of  wat«r  and  provisions.  They  would 
oven  drink  -ihe  muddy  water  from  the  ruts  in  the  road.  When  they 
reached  the  Shenandoah  they  were  heated  and  weary.  But  no  tinn^' 
wa3  to  be  lost,  and  they  plunged  in  and  forded  the  stream. 

At  last  they  reached  Piedmont.  Here  the  infantry  were  embarkrd 
on  o.ars,  and  the  artillery  and  cavalry  ordered  to  continue  the  march 
Jackson's,  Bee's,  and  Bartow's  Brigades  were  sent  i-n  advance. 

While  they  are  on  the  way,  let  me  glance  at  Manassas,  and  the  army 
there. 

General  Beauregard  had  not  heen  idle.  Naturally  his  position  was 
one  of  great  strength.  About  half  way  between  the  eastern  spur  of 
the  Blue  Ridge  and  the  Potom.ac,  below  Alexandria,  it  commanded 
the  whole  country  between  so  perfectly,  that  there  was  scarcely  any 
possibility  of  its  being  turned.  The  right  wing  stretched  off  toward? 
the  Ocquaquon  River,  through  a  wooded  country,  which  was  made  im- 
passable by  the  felling  of  trees.  To  the  left  was  a  rolling  table  land. 
easily  commanded  from  its  successive  elevations,  until  it  reached  un 
exceedingly  rough  and  rugged  country.  The  key  to  the  whole  poBi'- 
tlon  was  the  point  which  General  Beauregard  chose  for  his  centra. 
This  point  he  fortified  .so  strongly  that  a  small  force  was  capable  ci" 
holding  it  against  one  of  much  greater  size.  Nature  herself  had  partly 
fortified  it.  It  was  a  succession  of  hills,  nearly  cqui-distant  from  each 
other.  In  front  was  a  r.avine,  so  deep,  a'nd  so  thickly  wooded  that  it 
was  icTipassable,  save  at  two  or  three  gorges,  which  a  small  force  migh!, 
defend  against  an  army.  To  thosae  natural  advantages.  General  Beau 
regard  had  added  every  means  of  defence  which  his  genius  could  de- 
vise, or  his  experience  could  suggest.  Works  had  heen  erected  at 
Manasgas  Junction,  and  other  points,  and  a  small,  but  heroic  army  rd- 
iected  under  his  commnnd. 

The  enemy  advanced  from  Alexandria,  and  halted  at  Centreville. 
By  a  brilliant  retreat,  General  Beauregard  withdrew  his  advanced 
troops  within  the  lines  of  Bull  Run,  and  led  the  enemy  on  to  his  posi- 
tion. On  the  18th  of  July  the  enemy  attempted  to  force  a  passage  of 
Bull  Run,  at  Blackburn's  Ford,  on  the  Confederate  right,  but  were 
defeated  with  a  heavy  loBS.  As  the  battle  of  Bull  Run  is  not  -Jon- 
inectcd  with  this  narration  it  will  not  b?  described  here. 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  81 

The  19th  of  July  was  spent  in  burying  the  dead,  who  had  fallen 
the  day  before. 

General  Johnston  reached  Manassas  on  the  20th  of  July,  with  Jack- 
son's, Bee's  and  Bartow's  Brigades. 

That  night,  about  eleven  o'clock,  Marshall  was  sent  with  a  message 
to  General  Beauregard's  headquarters.  He  found  Generals  Beauregard 
and  Johnston  in  close  consultation.  General  Beauregard  recognized 
him,  and  shook  hands  with  him,  warmly  : 

"I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Marshall,  he  said  cordially.  Then 
turning  to  General  Johnston,  he  continued,  "  General,  allow  me  to 
present  to  you  Lieutenant  Marshall,  who  was  one  of  my  Aids  at  Sum- 
ter, but  who  is  now  under  your  command." 

General  Johnston  greeted  the  young  man  kindly,  and  asked  him  to 
what  part  of  the  army  he  belonged. 

"  I  am  an  Aid  to  General  Jackson,"  replied  Marshall. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  General  Johnston,  "  you  are  the  man  that  sho'fc  Cad- 
wallader's  Aid  at  Falling  Waters." 

Then  turning  to  General  Beauregard,  be  related  the  incident  to  blm. 

"General,"  said  Beauregard,  addressing  Johnston,  "Evans  has  sent 
to  me,  asking  for  an  officer  to  act  as  an  Aid  for  him.  From  present 
appearances,  I  believe  there  will  be  warm  work  to-morrow,  and  a  fine 
chance  for  distinction  and  promotion.  If  you  and  General  Jackson 
are  willing,  and  Lieutenant  Marshall  does  not  object,  we  will  transfer 
him,  for  the  occasion,  to  Evans.  I  want  to  give  him  a  chance  to 
show  what  he  is  made  of.  We'll  give  Jackson  some  one  else  for  to- 
morrow. 

General  Johnston  expressed  his  approval  of  General  Beauregard's 
proposition,  and  the  latter  directed  Marshall  to  obtain  General  Jack- 
eon's  consent  to  the  arrangement,  and  report  to  Colonel  Evans  at  the 
Stone  Bridge.  He  did  as  ordered,  sind  being  successful,  rode  ovei  to 
the  Stone  Bridge  and  reported  to  Col.  Evans.  This  was  about  twelve 
o'clock. 

He  found  Col.  Evans'  little  force  lying  upon  their  arms,  resting  cisd 
waiting  the  coming  of  the  morn  that  was  to  usher  in  such  scenes  of 
strife.  The  moon  was  still  in  the  Heavens,  casting  her  mellow  light 
over  every  object.  Through  the  broken  and  undulating  country,  which 
was  thickly  wooded  with  clumps  of  trees,  the  narrow  line  of  Bull  Ean 
swept  gracefully  on  its  way,  its  waters  flashing  like  polished  steel  Jn 
the  clear,  cool  moonlight.  As  far  as  his  eye  could  reach,  MarsbaJl 
could  see  the  gleam  of  musket  and  bayonet,  telling  that  the  brave  8e 
fenders  of  the  South  were  ready  for  the  fray.  To  the  rear,  and  a  little 
to  the  right  rose  the  gleam  of  the  SotitbeTn  camp  fires.  All  was  silent, 
6 


82  The  Aid-de-Camp, 

save  the  rippling  of  the  waters,  and  the  hoarse  challenges  of  the  sen- 
tinels, as  they  paced  their  watchful  rounds.  Beyond  the  Kun,  the 
dark  masses  of  woods  rose  sternly  and  solemnly  to  the  view,  with  a 
dreadful  and  foreboding  aspect.  Above  them  the  Heavens  were  lit  up 
by  a  dull,  red  glare,  which  revealed  the  locality  of  the  hostile  army. 
Occasionally  the  deep  boom  of  a  distant  gun  broke  upon  the  air,  and 
then  all  was  silent  again. 

Marshall  gazed  around  him  with  feelings  of  awe  and  interest.  No 
scene  is  more  striking  and  awe-inspiring  than  an  army  resting  in  the 
silence  of  the  night,  on  the  eve  of  a  great  battle.  Marshall  could  not 
sleep.  lie  walked  slowly  to  and  fro,  in  the  clear  moonlight,  thinking 
of  what  might  be  the  result  of  the  next  day's  battle.  He  trembled 
when  he  reflected  what  tremendous  interests  were  staked  upon  it.  The 
fate  of  the  nation  might  be  decided  by  the  struggle.  In  that  solemn 
hour  he  felt  how  weak  are  all  human  arms,  and  his  thoughts  turned  to 
the  God  of  battles,  whose  arm  is  ever  lifted  in  behalf  of  the  cause  of 
right  and  justice.  He  paused  in  his  walk,  and  kneeling  upon  the 
green  sward,  he  bared  his  head  and  prayed.  It  was  a  touching  and 
beautiful  scene.  One  single  man  kneeling  amid  the  armed  hosts  of 
Freedom,  in  the  face  of  a  powerful  foe,  with  the  moonbeams  falling 
aoftly  around  his  calm,  upturned  features,  praying,  in  silence  and  alone, 
that  the  Lord  Jehovah  would  go  forth  with  the  army  to  battle.  And 
while  he  knelt  there,  far  off,  nearly  at  the  opposite  wing  of  the  South- 
ern lines,  a  man  of  noble  stature  and  a  lion  heart,  prayed  for  the  same 
cause,  and  asked  for  that  strength  which  on  the  red  field  of  the  mor- 
row enabled  him  to  stand  "  like  a  stonewall"  in  the  path  of  the  foe. 
Methinks  that  as  those  prayers  rose  softly  upon  the  night  breeze  and 
entered  the  jasper  portals  of  Heaven,  a. burst  of  angelic  music  gushed 
from  the  lyres  of  the  Heavenly  harpers,  and  the  Angel  legions  of  the 
King  Eternal  shouted  for  joy  as  they  bared  their  protecting  arms  to 
strike  for  the  freedom  of  an  outraged  land.  Ah !  who  can  tell  how 
greatly  the  fate  of  the  battle  was  decided  by  those  two  prayers  ? 

When  he  had  finished  praying,  Marshall  rose,  calm  and  strength- 
ened, and  walked  over  to  where  Colonel  Evans  and  Major  Wheat  were 
fitanding  by  a  camp  fire  reading  an  order. 

*'  General  Beauregard  informs  me,"  said  the  Colonel,  turning  to 
Marshall,  "  that  the  enemy  will  attack  my  position.  So  we  shall  have 
warm  work  to-morrow,  Mr.  Marshall.  But  excuse  me,"  he  added 
suddenly,  "  Let  me  make  you  acquainted  with  Major  Wheat^  Lieu- 
tenant Marshall." 
The  two  gentlemen  shook  hands,  warmlyj 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  8g 

'•  By  your  name,  I  take  you  to  be  a  brother  Virginian,  Lieutenant," 
Maid  Major  Wheat. 

'•  Though  I  have  been  but  a  truant  son,  lam  proud  of  the  old  State, 
and  love  her  dearly.  I  am  always  glad  to  meet  with  any  of  her  chil- 
dren." 

Wheat  was  a  large,  splendid  looking  man,  with  a  frank,  open  face, 
and  chivalrous  bearing.  His  romantic  and  eventful  life  had  left  its 
traces  upon  him.  There  was  about  him  an  air  of  manly  generosity 
,wLich  at  once  won  him  friends.  A  kinder  or  a  more  chivalric  nature 
was  never  given  to  any  man  than  to  Roberdeau  Chatham  Wheat. 
Kind  friend,  generous  foe,  may  the  (urf  rest  lightly  upon  him.  Let 
us  deal  gently  with  his  faulLs.  He  loved  his  country;  he  died  for  her. 
Toace  to  his  ashes. 

Colonel  Evans  was  a  hearty,  bluff  looking  man — every  inch  a  sol- 
dier. His  manner  was  sudden  and  abrupt,  but  he  was  warm  and  ge- 
nial in  his  disposition.  His  keen  eye  grasped  everything  at  once,  and 
his  fertile  brain  instantly  devised  some  plan,  which  ever  carried*  de- 
struction and  terror  to  the  foe. 

The  officers  continued  to  converse  around  the  camp  fire,  and  the 
night  wore  away.  The  moon  went  down  and  the  darkness  gathered 
thickly  over  all.  Then  the  gray  light  of  dawn  broke  the  gloom  in  the 
East.  Instantly  the  music  of  the  reveille  sounded  along  the  lines,  and 
then  was  heard  the  sharp  rattle  of  the  drums  as  they  beat  the  long 
roil.  It  is  a  thrilling  sound,  that  long  roll,  on  the  morning  of  a  battle. 
How  the  heart  beats  and  the  breast  thrills  as  it  rings  along  the  lines, 
■uramoning  some  to  glory  and  some  to  the  grave. 

Marshall  listened  to  it  with  eager  interest.  Major  Wheat  noticed 
this,  and  smiled  quietly. 

"The  long  roll  seems  to  interest  you,  Mr.  Marshall,"  he  said. 
"  Wait  a  few  hours  and  you  will  hear  more  thrilling  music  than  that. 
There  is  nothing  that  sounds  so  sweet  to  my  ears  as  the  roar  of  the 
guns." 

He  had  heard  it  often  under  many  a  foreign  sky.  Poor  fellow !  it 
was  the  last  earthly  sound  that  fell  upon  his  ears. 

Soon  the  gloom  broke  away,  and  the  sun  of  Manassas  rose  slowly  in 
the  Heavens.  A  (eif  minutes  after  sunrise  a  wreath  of  white  smoke 
rose  from  the  woods  opposite  the  Stone  Bridge,  and  the  heavy  report 
of  a  cannon  broke  the  stillness  of  the  morning, 

"That  is  their  opening  salute,"  said  Major  Wheat,  his  eyes  bright, 
eoing. 

Col.  Evans  was  watching  the  woods  in  front  of  his  position.     Sad 


84  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

denly  a  lonf*  line  of  skirmishers  emerged  from  the  trees,  and  advanced 
towards  the  Run. 

"  Major,"  said  the  Colonel,  turning  to  Wheat,  "  throw  forward  one 
of  your  companies  to  hold  these  rascals  in  check.  And  you,  Mr.  Mar- 
shall," he  added,  addressing  the  young  man,  "  tell  Colonel  Sloan  to  ad- 
vance two  companies  of  his  regiment,  to  assist  Major  Wheat's  men." 

Marshall  and  Major  Wheat  moved  off  rapidly  in  different  directions. 
As  they  did  so,  a  Federal  battery  was  advanced  from  the  woods  and  a 
rapid  fire  opened  upon  the  Confederates.  At  the  same  time  the 
enemy's  skirmishers  advanced  to  the  Run,  and  began  a  vigorous  fire  of 
small  arms. 

Marshall  delivered  his  orders  to  Colonel  Sloan,  whose  men  were  ad- 
vanced simultaneously  with  Major  Wheat's.  They  replied  with  spirit 
to  the  fire  of  the  enemy,  and  held  them  in  check. 

As  soon  as  the  cannonade  was  begun  at  the  Stone  Bridge,  it  was 
takea  up  by  the  various  Federal  batteries  along  the  line  of  Bull  Run. 
The  heaviest  cannonade  was  directed  against  the  Confederate  centre 
and  the  right  wing.  The  enemy  wished  to  create  the  impression  that 
those  points  would  be  most  vigorously  assailed.  But  watchful  eyes 
were  upon  them,  and  master  minds  were  prepared  to  thwart  their  move- 
ments. 

The  skirmishing  at  the  Stone  Bridge  continued  actively.  About 
eight  o'clock  Col.  Evans  said  to  Marshall : 

"  Go  to  Colonel  Sloan  and  tell  him  to  leave  four  of  Jiis  companies 
to  hold  the  enemy  in  check,  to  draw  off  the  rest  quietly,  and  report 
to  me  here.  Tell  Major  Wheat  to  draw  in  all  of  his  men,  form  behind 
Colonel  Sloan,  and  report  to  me  here.  Then  ride  to  Gen.  Cocke  and 
tell  him  that  I  am  convinced  that  the  attack  on  my  present  front  is 
only  to  deceive  me,  and  that  the  real  plan  of  the  enemy  is  to  attempt 
to  turn  my  left  flank,  somewhere  above  here.  Tell  him  that  I  have 
left  a  small  force  to  check  the  Yankee  skirmishers.  I  intend  drawing 
off  the  rest  of  my  men,  and  occupying  a  new  position  between  the 
Carter  house  and  the  Brentsville  road.  When  you  have  delivered 
these  messages  rejoin  me  at  once.     I  shall  need  you." 

Marshall  delivered  the  orders  to  Colonel  Sloan  and  Major  Wheat, 
and  then  rode  off  to  find  General  Cocke.  He  soon  found  him,  and 
communicated  to  him  the  message  with  which  he  had  been  charged. 

"  Tell  Colonel  ETans,"  said  the  General,  "  that  I  approve  his  course, 
and  will  immediately  inform  General  Beauregard  of  it.  Tell  him, 
also,  that  he  is  expected  to  defend  his  new  position  to  the  last  ex- 
tremity." 

Marshall  bowed  and  rode  off.     He  hastened  with  all  speed  to  rejoin 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  86 

Colonel  Evans,  whom  he  found  at  the  point  to  which  he  had  removed. 
When  ho  came  up  with  him,  he  found  the  troops  drawn  up  in  line  of 
battle.  The  left  rested  on  the  main  (IJrentsville)  road,  and  was  com- 
posed of  the  4th  South  Carolina  (Sloan's)  Kegiment,  with  one  of  La- 
tham's guns  posted  on  an  eminence  in  its  rear. 

On  the  right  Wheat's  men  were  thrown  forward,  a  little  in  advance 
of  the  4th  South  Carolina,  and  Latham's  other  gun  was  in  position  on 
some  high  ground  behind  them.  A  copse  of  woods  separated  the  two 
wings. 

Colonel  Evans  was  holding  a  consultation  with  Colonel  Sloan  and 
Major  Wheat  when  Marshall  arrived. 

"  We  have  chosen  this  position,  and  have  determined  to  hold  it, 
Mr.  Marshall,"  he  said,  when  he  had  heard  General  Cocke's  message. 

"  They  seem  to  be  having  a  lively  time  on  the  right,"  said  Colonel 
iSloan,  as  he  listened  to  the  thunder  of  the  guns  in  the  direction  of 
Union  Mills. 

"  That  is  only  to  deceive  us,"  said  Colonel  Evans,  calmly.  "  They 
will  be  here  upon  us  in  a  short  time." 

Major  Wheat  sprang  from  his  horse,  and  placing  his  ear  to  the 
ground,  listened  eagerly. 

"  What  are  you  doing,  Major  ?"  asked  Marshall. 

Wheat  did  not  reply,  but  continued  to  listen.  •  Soon  he  rose,  and 
turning  to  Colonel  Evans,  said,  hurriedly : 

"  They  are  not  far  off,  Colonel ;  and  they  are  coming  in  large  num- 
bers." 

Then  addressing  Marshall,  he  continued  :  "  I  was  listening  for  the 
tramp  of  the  enemy  when  you  spoke.  My  ear  rarely  deceives  me.  I 
learned  this  from  the  Indians.     W'e  shall  have  warm  work  presently." 

"  To  your  posts,  then,  gentlemen,"  said  Colonel  Evans,  as  he  extended 
his  hand  to  eacji  of  them.  "  Remember,  we  must  fall  here,  before  we 
yield  the  position.  We  shall  be  reinforced  presently.  Farewell !  and 
God  speed  you,  gentlemen  " 

The  two  officers  hastened  to  rejoin  their  commands.  Marshall  re- 
mained with  Colonel  Evans. 

Major  Wheat  was  right.  The  enemy  were  advancing  along  the 
road  upon  which  Colonel  Evans  had  taken  his  position.  Having  deter- 
mined to  turn  the  Confederate  left  flank.  General  McDowell  had  massed 
his  troops  in  the  woods  around  Centreville,  on  the  night  of  20th  of 
July,  On  the  next  morning  he  moved  forward  two  heavy  columns, 
numbering  in  all  sixteen  thousand  men,  with  more  than  twenty-four 
pieces  of  artillery.  They  moved  by  a  road  seldom  used,  and,  making 
a  long  detour  through  the  woods,  reached  the  Sudley  road,  and  crossed 


86  TU  Aid-de-Camp. 

Bull  Kun  at  the  Sudlcy  Ford,  two  miles  above  the  Stone  Bridge.  To 
oppose  this  immense  force,  Colonel  Evans  could  muster  only  nine  hun- 
dred men  and  two  small  six  pounders. 

While  the  enemy  are  advancing,  let  us  glance  at  a  scene  in  another 
portion  of  the  field. 

At  half  past  eight  o'clock,  Generals  Johnston  and  Beauregard,  ac- 
companied by  their  Aides,  dashed  to  the  summit  of  a  hill,  overlooking 
Mitchell's  Ford,  from  which  they  could  observe  the  movements  below 
them. 

The  day  was  bright  and  beautiful,  scarcely  a  cloud  obscuring  the 
blue  sky  above.  Far  below  the  Southern  Generals  lay  the  plains  which 
were  in  a  few  hours  to  be  made  glorious  by  a  struggle  fiercer  than  had 
ever  been  witnessed  before  in  the  New  World.  To  the  right  lay  the 
long  dark  lines  of  entrenchments,  with  their  bristling  guns,  which  had, 
as  yet,  given  no  reply  to  the  deep  mouthed  thunder  of  the  Federal 
cannon  lying  opposite  them.  Far  away  to  the  left  stretched  the  broken 
and  uneven  ground  occupied  by  the  dauntless  brigades  of  Evans  and 
Cocke.  Between  the  two  armies  wound  the  glittering  line  of  Bull 
Run,  with  its  wavelets  dancing  merrily  in  the  sunlight.  Beyond  the 
Run  heavy  clouds  of  smoke  hung  over  the  left  wing  of  the  Federal 
army,  hiding  the  hostile  guns  which  hurled  a  storm  of  iron  missiles 
upon  the  Confederate  right  and  centre.  To  the  right,  the  thick  woods 
and  undulating  ground  concealed  that  portion  of  their  army  from 
view. 

With  faces  pale  with  stern  resolve,  and  hearts  fixed  upon  the  Al- 
mighty God  of  Battles,  the  commanders  of  the  little  army  of  the 
South  watched  the  scene  before  them.  Shortly  after  nine  o'clock 
heavy  clouds  of  dust  were  seen  rising  in  the  distance,  towards  the 
North  East.  The  enemy  were  approaching  the  left  wing.  Reinforce- 
ments were  at  once  ordered  to  that  point. 

When  General  Johnston  reached  Manassas,  it  was  known  to  General 
Beauregard  that  the  enemy  intended  attacking  him  the  next  day. 
The  position  being  too  complicated  to  be  learned  in  the  short  time  at 
his  disposal.  General  Johnston  resolved  to  rely  upon  General  Beaure- 
gard's knowledge  of  it,  and  to  give  his  sanction  to  the  plans  of  that 
officer.  General  Beauregard  felt  assured  that  the  failure  of  the  enemy 
to  eflfect  a  passage  of  the  Run  at  Blackburn's  Ford  on  the  18th  would 
prevent  them  from  attempting  to  force  his  right  wing;  that  the  strength 
of  his  centre  would  render  it  safe  ;  and  that  the  real  plan  of  the  enemy 
would  be  to  endeavor  to  turn  his  left  flank  at  or  above  the  Stone 
Bridge.  In  order  to  relieve  his  left,  he  proposed  to  advance  his  right 
wing  ani  attack  tthc  enemy,  while  the  left  stood  on  the  defensive. 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  §7 

This  plan  having  received  the  sanction  of  General  Johnston,  orders 
were  at  once  issued  to  carry  it  into  effdct.  Thus  matters  stood  when 
the  advance  of  the  enemy  upon  Evans'  position  was  reported. 

The  day  wore  on  and  the  Confederate  Commanders  anxiously  awaited 
the  attack  of  the  enemy.  Soon  the  booming  of  artillery  and  the  sharp 
rattle  of  musketry  told  that  the  battle  had  begun  upon  the  left.  The 
designs  of  the  enemy  were  now  revealed.  Soon  afterwards  General 
Beauregard  was  informed,  that  in  consequence  of  the  non-receipt  of 
his  orders  by  the  brigade  commanders  on  the  right,  his  plan  of  battle 
had  failed.  He  recalled  the  orders  sent,  and  with  General  Johnston 
resolved  to  accept  the  battle  as  the  enemy  should  offer  it.  Thus  the 
battle  was  fought  by  them  upon  a  plan  forced  upon  them  by  the  exi- 
gencies of  the  occasion,  and  which  clearly  demonstrated  their  right  to 
their  proud  titles.  Ordering  fresh  troops  to  be  hurried  forward  to  the 
scene  of  action,  Generals  Johnston  and  Beauregard  at  once  set  out  for 
that  point. 

I  must  now  return  to  Evans. 

At  a  quarter  to  ten  o'clock,  &  brigade  of  the  Federal  army  appeared 
in  front  of  Wheat's  position,  and  only  five  hundred  yards  from  it. 
This  was  Burnside's  Brigade,  in  which  was  the  celebrated  2nd  Rhode 
Island  Regiment,  with  its  battery  of  six  thirteen  pounder  rifle  gune. 
Skirmishers  were  thrown  forward,  and  the  engagement  opened.  Wheat's 
two  companies  and  the  solitary  sis  pounder  kept  up  a  vigorous  and 
effective  fire. 

Just  as  the  firing  began,  an  Aid  dashed  furiously  to  Colonel  Evans. 
His  horse  was  covered  with  foam,  and  hia  clothes  were  thick  with  dust. 
He  had  ridden  all  the  way  from  General  Beauregard's  headquarters  at 
full  speed.     As  he  reached  Colonel  Evans,  he  reined  in  his  horse. 

"  Colonel,"  he  cried,  hurriedly,  "  if  you  can  hold  your  ground  for  an 
hour,  you  will  be  reinforced.  General  Bee  is  on  his  way  to  join  you. 
I  am  going  to  hasten  him." 

Wheeling  his  horse,  he  was  off  with  the  speed  with  which  he  came. 

"  By  Heavens  I"  cried  Evans,  as  he  gazed  admiringly  towards  the 
position  of  the  gallant  Louisianians,  whose  deadly  rifles  were  playing 
havoc  among  the  Federal  ranks,  and  whose  "Tiger"  yells  were 
rising  proudly  on  the  air ;  "Wheat's  men  are  heroes.  Go  to  Colonel 
Sloan,  Mr.  Marshall,  and  order  him  to  advance  his  men  through  the 
woods  to  Major  Wheat's  support.     The  six  pounder  must  follow  him." 

Marshall  hastened  to  the  lefl  and  delivered  the  order.  The  men 
were  awaiting  impatiently,  and  as  Colonel  Sloan  gave  the  order  to 
advance,  dashed  thrash  the  woods  with  a  cheer,  and  were  soon  at 


88  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

tKeir  new  position.     The  firing  now  grew  more  rapid,  for  the  battle  had 
fairly  begun. 

It  was  a  desperate  struggle.  Only  eight  companies  of  infantry  and 
two  pieces  of  artillery  opposed  to  an  entire  brigade,  and  eight  guns. 
But  in  spite  of  the  fearful  odds  against  them,  there  was  no  faltering 
among  the  little  band  of  Southerners.  Each  man  seemed  inspired  into  a 
hero,  and  they  fought  with  a  firmness  almost  superhuman.  History 
will  cherish,  and  future  ages  honor  the  memories  ot  that  noble  band 
w^o  fought  the  first  hour  of  Manassas. 

Colonel  Evans  went  everywhere,  animating  and  urging  on  his  men 
by  his  personal  example. 

During  the  engagement,  Marshall  was  sent  to  tha  front  with  an  or- 
clir.  On  his  return,  he  saw  several  of  "  the  Tiger  i3attahon"  carrying 
some  one  from  the  field.  He  sprang  from  his  horse  and  approached 
tliem.  It  was  Major  Wheat.  He  had  been  severely  wounded,  but 
not  fatally,  and  was  being  carried  from  the  field. 

'•'  Gently  boys,  gently,"  murmured  the  gallant  soldier,  faintly. 

"  Major,  are  you  badly  hurt?"  asked  Marshall,  pressing  to  his  side. 

Wheat  opened  his  eyes  and  recognized  him. 

"  Very  badly,  I  fear.  Lieutenant,"  he  said,  faintly. 

Then  his  eyes  flashed,  and  raising  his  head,  he  exclaimed,  with  a 
feverish  energy  : 

"  Go,  tell  the  boys  to  do  their  duty.  Tell  them  they  must  not  dis- 
grace me." 

"  I  will,  sir,"  said  Marshall,  as  he  turned  to  go  away. 

'•'  Thanks,"  murmured  the  Major,  and  he  sank  back  exhausted.  He 
had  performed  prodigies  of  valor,  and  had  handled  his  men  most  skil- 
fully, when  he  fell,  shot  through  and  through  the  body  by  a  rifle  ball- 
His  wound  was  terrible,  but,  fortunately  for  his  country,  not  fatal. 

Marshall  hastened  back  to  the  right.  He  rode  fearlessly  into  the 
line  of  fire,  and  raising  himself  in  his  stiriups,  shouted  : 

"  Men,  Major  Wheat  has  fallen.  He  has  sent  me  here  to  tell  you  to 
do  your  duty.     He  says  you  must  not  disgrace  him." 

The  message  was  passed  from  man  to  man,  and  then  there  arose 
from  the  little  band  a  yell  of  fury  that  chilled  the  young  man's  blood 
as  he  listened  to  it.  Inspired  by  a  stern  determination  to  avenge  the 
fate  of  their  gallant  commander,  the  men  fought  with  a  desperation 
that  amazed  and  terrified  their  foes. 

Marshall  returned  to  Colonel  Evans. 

"  Colonel,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  reached  him,  "  Major  Wheat  has 
&llen.     He  has  been  badly  woundtd." 

"  Poor  fellow/'  exclaimed  Evans,  an  expression  of  sorrow  over- 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  89 

clouding  his  fine  features.     Then  he  asked,  anxiously,  "  Do  his  men 
know  it?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Marshall.  They  seem  maddened  to  desperation 
by  it. 

"  Good,"  exclaimed  the  Colonel.  "  Mr.  Marshall,"  he  added,  calmly, 
"  "We  shall  be  annihilated  or  driven  back  in  half  an  hour.  It  is  now 
a  quarter  to  eleven,  and  we  cannot  stand  this  much  longer.  If  Bee 
does  not  come  up  very  soon,  we  shall  be  ruined.  "We  can  die  here, 
but  we  cannot  hold  this  position  half  an  hour  longer." 

He  had  scarcely  spoken  when  a  tremendous  cheer  broke  from  the 
woods  on  his  right ;  and  a  heavy  fire  was  opened  upon  the  Federal 
lines. 

"  Good,"  shouted  Colonel  Evans,  enthusiastically.  ''  Bee  has  come 
up,  and  we  shall  beat  them  yet." 

At  this  moment  an  Aid  rode  up  and  informed  Colonel  Evans  that 
General  Bee  had  arrived,  and^xplained  to  him  the  position  of  his 
troops. 

Bee  brought  with  him  men  worthy  of  aiding  the  almost  exhausted 
heroes  of  the  first  hour  of  Manassas.  With  him  came  the  4th  Ala- 
bama, the  2nd,  and  a  portion  of  the  11th  Mississippi  regiments,  these 
forming  his  own  brigade,  and  the  7th  and  8th  Georgia,  composing 
Colonel  Bartow's  brigade,  and  Imboden's  light  battery. 

With,  the  eye  of  a  veteran  he  at  once  selected  his  position  and 
brought  his  troops  into  action.  Now  the  battle  raged  with  fury.  The 
burning  July  sun  poured  down  fiercely  upon  them,  but  the  dense 
wreaths  of  smoke  darkened  his  light,  and  the  earth  shook  under  the 
heavy  volleys  of  musketry  and  cannon. 

An  hour  passed  away  and  the  enemy  were  being  heavily  reinforced. 

The  Confederate  force  at  this  time  consisted  of  l5ut  five  regiments  of 
infantry  and  eight  pieces  of  artillery;  while,  sweeping  down  upon 
them,  came  fifteen  thousand  Federal  troops  and  twenty  guns. 

It  was  a  moment  when  the  stoutest  heart  might  have  been  appalled. 
Shot  and  shell  tore  through  the  ranks,  man  after  man  was  shot  down^ 
but  the  heroes  held  their  ground.  The  8th  Georgia,  posted  within 
one  hundred  yards  of  the  enemy,  suffered  fearfully.  The  4th  Alabama? 
led  by  Bee  himself,  was  nearly  cut  to  pieces.  The  7th  Georgia  and 
the  Mississippians  were  paying  dearly  for  their  reckless  gallantry. 
Evans'  little  band  filled  up  with  Roman  firmness  the  gaps  in  their 
rapidly  thinning  ranks.  Latham's  and  Imboden's  gunners,  the  objects 
of  a  withering  fire,  lost  many  of  their  numbers. 

But  there  was  no  faltering  among  them.  The  old  classic  war  cry, 
"  Pro  aris  et  focis,"  which  ever  welded  into  a  phalanx  of  solid  steel  all 


90  The  Aid-de-Oamp. 

the  opposing  elements  of  a  Roman  army,  was  ringing  in  eacb  Southern 
soldier's  heart,  and  nerving  him  to  an  iron  endurance  against  the  power 
of  the  foe.  They  thought  of  home,  and  loved  ones  •>vhose  prayers 
were  at  that  very  hour  going  up  to  God  for  them ;  for  the  bright  and 
glorious  land  that  had  sent  them  forth  to  die  for  her;  of  a  just  God 
"who  giveth  not  always  the  battle  to  the  strong,  but  can  save  by  many 
or  by  few ;"  and  under  the  inspiration  of  such  thoughts  they  resolved 
to  die  free,  as  they  had  lived.  They  would  not,  thei/  could  not  be 
conquered. 

Shortly  before  twelve  o'clock,  Marshall  was  sent  to  General  Bee  with 
a  message  from  Colonel  Evans.  While  with  him,  he  heard  him 
receive  information  that  two  strong  divisions  of  the  Federal  army  had 
crossed  Bull  Run  and  were  endeavoring  to  outflank  him.  The  message 
was  hardly  delivered,  when  it  was  reported  by  a  courier  that  one  of 
these  divisions  was  nearly  within  musket  range. 

"  We  must  fall  back  until  we  receive  support,"  said  General  Bee. 
"  Ride,  gentlemen,"  he  added  to  his  Aids,  "  and  give  the  order  for  the 
troops  to  fall  back  slowly  to  the  Henry  house."  Marshall  returned  to 
Colonel  Evans,  and  delivered  the  order. 

The  troops  fell  back  slowly,  and,  at  first,  in  good  order.  But  the 
dense  masses  of  the  enemy  surged  heavily  upon  them  and  hurled  a 
fierce  and  destructive  fire  into  their  ranks.  It  was  more  than  mortals 
could  endure,  and  those  heroic  regiments,  which  had  fought  so  nobly, 
were  thrown  into  confusion,  and  the  retreat  threatened  to  become  a 
rout. 

General  Bee  was  riding  with  Colonels  Evans  and  Bartow,  in  earnest 
consultation  with  them.  Marshall  saw  the  lines  waver,  and  the  troops 
sway  confusedly  to  and  fro. 

Dashing  up  to  General  Bee,  he  cried,  hurriedly : 

"  General!  the  army  is  becoming  panic-stricken." 

Bee  glanced  hurriedly  around  him. 

"  My  God  !"  he  cried,  in  a  voice  of  anguish.  "  This  must  not  be. 
Aid  me,  gentlemen,  to  restore  order.     We  are  not  defeated," 

Aided  by  his  oflicers,  the  gallant  General  bent  every  energy  to 
restore  order  among  his  troops. 

Marshall  rode  along  the  line,  shouting  to  them  to  rally. 

"  Form  men  !  for  God's  sake,"  he  cried,  imploringly.  *'  Think  of 
your  homes,  your  wives  and  little  ones.  You  are  fighting  for  them. 
Form,  we  are  not  defeated." 

Suddenly  the  Henry  house  came  in  sight.  This  was  the  point  that 
Bee  wished  to  reach.  Here  he  intended  to  make  a  fresh  stand.  Marshall 
trembled  lest  the  army  should  not  be  sufficiently  restored  to  form  there? 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  91 

At  this  moment  his  attention  was  attracted  by  a  sight  that  he  Ion- 
remembered.  Advancing  rapidly  across  the  plateau  on  which  the 
Henry  house  is  situated,  a  long  line  of  men  came  on  with  the  steadi- 
ness of  veterans.  Over  them  waved  the  Confederate  flag,  and  another 
of  a  darker  hue.  He  raised  his  glass,  and  gazed  earnestly  at  it.  It 
was  the  blue  banner  of  Virginia.  It  was  his  own  brigade.  Jackson 
was  coming  to  their  assistance. 

"  Hurrah!"  he  shouted,  as  he  waved  his  cap,  enthusiastically.  "Old 
Virginia  to  the  rescue.  Look  yonder  boys,"  he  cried,  turning  to  the 
men.  "  There  conies  Jackson,  llally  now,  and  the  victory  is  your 
own." 

A  wild  cheer  pealed  along  the  lines,  and  the  ranks  closed  up.  The 
gallant  "  First  Brigade"  heard  it  as  they  came  on,  and  answered  it 
with  a  shout  of  triumph.     Order  was  restored,  and  the  enemy  paused. 

Bee  and  Jackson  formed  their  men,  and  then  the  fearful  struggle 
began  again.  The  firing  was  kept  up  with  increased  fury.  The 
enemy  had  been  largely  reinforced,  and  pressed  the  Southern  lines 
heavily. 

It  was  now  noon.  The  small  force  of  the  Confederates  was  barely 
able  to  hold  its  position.  There  were  signs  of  wavering.  Marshall 
mentioned  this  to  Colonel  Evans. 

"  If  we  falter  now,  we  are  lost,"  said  Evans,  sternly.  "  But  look 
yonder,"  ke  cried,  pointing  along  the  lines,  while  a  tremendous  cheer 
rose  high  above  the  roar  of  the  battle.  Marshall  gazed  in  the  directioa 
i-ndicated.  What  a  sight  mot  his  view.  Dashing  to  the  front  with  the 
colors  of  the  4th  Alabama  flying  by  his  side.  General  Johnston  exposed 
himself  to  the  storm  of  balls  ihat  swept  thickly  around  him,  and 
endeavored  to  keep  the  troops  firm.  He  implored  them  to  stand  fast, 
and  all  would  be  well.  Beauregard,  with  his  noble  features  all  aglow, 
paced  his  horse  slowly  up  and  down  in  front  of  the  lines,  holding  his 
troops  in  check,  and  urging  them  to  act  like  men. 

These  heroic  examples  were  not  lost.  Wild  and  impulsive  cheers 
greeted  them.  The  troops  forgot  their  sufferings.  The  broken  ranks 
closed  up. 

"  Colonel,"  exclaimed  an  old  man  in  the  ranks,  addressing  Evans, 
and  brushing  the  tears  from  his  eyes,  "  they  can't  whip  us  now." 

At  this  moment  a  cry  of  horror  rose  in  the  direction  of  the  Generals. 
Marshall  gazed  anxiously  towards  them.  Beauregard  could  not  be 
seen.  Had  he  fallen  ?  A  moment  of  anxious  suspense  followed,  and 
then  a  mighty  shout  arose  on  high,  as  the  heroic  commander  sprang 
lightly  from  the  ground.     lie  waa  not  touched.     A  shell  had  carried 


92  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

away  his  horse's  head,  but  he  had  escaped  unhurt.  Mounting  a  fresh 
horse,  he  was  again  ready  for  duty. 

General  Johnston,  yielding  to  the  entreaties  of  General  Beauregard, 
now  left  the  field,  and  repaired  to  a  neighboring  point,  from  which  he 
could  direct  the  operations  of  the  entire  army.  By  his  ready  and  skil- 
ful appreciation  of  General  Beauregard's  necessities,  and  his  prompt 
and  energetic  action,  he  saved  the  victory  then  trembling  in  the  balance. 

General  Beauregard  now  rode  along  the  lines,  and  as  he  passed 
Evans'  brigade,  took  off  his  hat  and  bowed  profoundly  to  them.  The 
men  cheered  him  enthusiastically.  Biding  to  Colonel  Evans,  he  caught 
his  hand,  warmly. 

"  Colonel,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  deep  emotion,  "you  have  saved  the, 
army,  and  won  immortality."  Then,  seeing  Marshall,  he  held  out  his 
hand  to  him,  which  the  young  man  seized  eagerly.  "  I  am  glad  to  see 
that  you  are  safe,"  said  the  General.  *'  Colonel,"  he  added,  addressing 
Evans,  "  you  can  spare  Mr.  Marshall  now,  and  I  want  another  Aid.  I 
shall  take  him  with  me." 

"  You  will  find  him  useful,"  said  Evans.  "  He  has  been  invaluable 
to  me.  He  has  acted*  like  a  hero.  Good-bye,  Mr.  Marshall,"  he 
added,  shaking  hands  warmly  with  him,  "  I  hope  to  see  you  unhurt 
after  the  battle." 

"  I  knew,"  said  General  Beauregard,  as  they  rode  off,  turning  with 
a  smile  to  the  young  man,  whose  breast  was  heaving  with  proud 
emotion,  "  that  I  would  hear  a  favorable  account  of  you." 

The  two  armies  now  occupied  the  plateau  on  which  the  Robinson  and 
Henry  houses  are  situated.  The  enemy's  force  had  been  increased  to 
twenty  thousand  infantry  and  twenty-four  pieces  of  artillery,  and  seven 
companies  of  regular  cavalry;  while  the  Southern  army  numbered 
about  six  thousand  five  hundred  infantry,  thirteen  guns,  and  two  compa- 
nies of  cavalry. 

During  the  interval  in  which  the  events  related  above  occurred,  the 
artillery  had  not  been  idle.  Opposed  to  the  veteran  regular  artillery  of 
the  enemy,  the  Southern  volunteer  batteries  acquitted  themselves  nobly. 
Stanard's,  Imboden's,  Alburtis',  AValton's  and  Rogers'  guns,  alternating 
with  each  other  in  a  rapid  and  vigorous  fire,  shattered  and  broke  the 
ranks  of  the  enemy. 

The  Federal  ranks  were  now  advanced,  and  in  a  few  minutes  came 
within  half-musket  range.  A  fatal  fire  now  blazed  along  the  Southern 
lines,  and  soon  the  torn  and  shattered  lines  of  the  enemy  began  to 
waver.  Regiment  after  regiment  was  brought  up  to  take  the  place  of 
those  thrown  into  confusion  by  the  murderous  fire,  which,  without  a 


The  Aid-de-Qamp.  93 

moment's  cessation,  swept  through  the  Federal  ranks.     But  each  new 
regiment  came  up  only  that  it  might  share  the  fate  of  the  others. 

On  the  enemy's  right  were  posted  the  celebrated  New  York  Fire 
Zouaves.  The  brilliant  uniforms  of  this  regiment  made  them  a  con- 
spicuous mark,  and  being  objects  of  special  hatred  to  the  Confederates, 
they  had  suffered  fearfully. 

An  olEcer  now  rode  up  to  General  Beauregard. 
"  General/'  he  exclaimed,  "  Colonel  Stuart  wishes  to  know  if  he 
may  charge,  and  where  he  must  go." 

"  Tell  him  to  go  where  the  fire  is  hottest,"  replied  Beauregard,  hig 
features  glowing  with  the  genius  of  battle. 

The  officer  rode  off,  and  in  a  few  minutes  a  wild  shout  rose  in  the 
direction  in  which  he  had  disappeared.  General  Beauregard  pointed 
towards  the  Zouaves,  and  all  gazed  in  that  direction.  A  squadron  of 
cavalry  was  thundering  down  upon  them.  They  charged  right  througli 
the  ranks  of  the  Zouaves,  sabering  right  and  left.  The  red-legged 
ruffians  broke  in  confusion,  and  the  cavalry,  sweeping  around,  dashed 
through  them  again  and  returned.  Fresh  troops  were  hurried  to  the 
assistance  of  the  Zouaves.  The  battle  raged  furiously.  The  enemy 
made  numerous  attempts  to  outflank  the  Confederates,  but  were  driven 
back  each  time  by  the  terrible  fire  that  greeted  their  advance.  It  was 
two  o'clock,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  battle  could  not  be  thus  main- 
tained much  longer.  General  Beauregard  gave  the  order  for  the 
whole  line,  (except  the  reserves,)  to  advance  and  recover  the  plateau. 
They  moved  forward  with  the  steadiness  of  veterans.  It  was  a  grand 
sight,  that  bayonet  charge.  The  enemy  retired  in  confusion  as  they 
saw  the  long  firm  line  of  steel  come  on,  and  the  plateau  was  won.  The 
Federals  rallied,  and  having  received  fresh  reinforcements,  advanced  to 
recover  their  ground.  Borne  down  by  vastly  superior  numbers,  the 
Confederates  i^hwly  tell  back,  and  the  eneniy  regained  the  plateau. 
"  It  was  new  three  o'clock.  Eeinforcements  ordered  forward  by 
General  Johnston  had  arrived,  and  were  posted  at  the  needed  points. 
Turning  to  his  staff,  General  Beauregard  gave  orders  for  a  general ' 
attack  upon  the  Federal  lines,  and  announced  that  he  intended  to  lead 
it  in  person. 

^'  Mr.  Marshall,"  he  said,  turning  to  that  gentleman,  ''order  General 
Jackson-  to  advance  his  brigade.  Then  ride  to  General  Johnston's 
headquarters,  explain  our  position,  and  a.sk  him.  for  reinforcements." 

Marshall  bowed,  and  gallopped  away.  Y»'hen  he  reached  General 
Jackson,  he  saw  General  Bee  approaching.  Jackson  was  wounded  in 
the  hand,  but  he  sat  on  his  horse,  calm  and  unmoved  amid  the  balls 


94  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

that  were  wliiatliQg  anund  him.  Marshall  was  received  by  him  with 
kindness.     He  delivered  his  order  just  as  Bee  joined  them. 

Bee's  men  had  fought  nobly  until  only  a  handful  of  the  brigade 
remained.  Every  field  oflSccr  had  fallen,  and  many  of  the  company 
ofiicers  had  been  killed.  Regiments  were  commanded  by  captains,  and 
companies  by  sergeants,  and  the  heroie  few  were  about  to  give  way. 

As  General  Bee  approached  General  Jackson,  he  exclaimed  in  a 
voice  of  anguish  : 

"  General,  they  are  beating  us  back." 

.Jackson's  eyes  flashed,  the  large  nostrils  dilated,  and  the  firm,  grave 
mouth  grew  more  rigid.  He  turned  to  General  Bee  and  replied, 
calmly : 

''  Sir,  we'll  give  them  the  bayonet." 

Then  dashing  to  the  head  of  his  brigade,  he  thundered,  "  forward !"' 
and  the  men  sprang  forward  with  a  cheer. 

General  Bee  now  returned  to  his  own  brigade,  and  Marshall  having 
to  pass  that  way,  accompanied  him. 

As  he  reached  his  men,  Bee  reined  in  his  horse  and  pointed  towards 
Jackson,  who  was  dashing  on  splendidly. 

"  Look  yonJer,"  he  shouted.  "  There'  is  Jackson  standing  like  a 
stone  wall.  Let  us  determine  to  die  here  and  we  will  conquer.  Follow 
me." 

The  appeal  was  irresistible.  It  was  more  than  the  hearts  of  the 
Alabamians  and  the  Mississippians  could  endure.  "With  a  yell  of 
defiance  they  sprang  forward. 

The  whole  line  was  sweeping  down  upon  the  enemy.  The  Federal 
infantry  fell  back  in  disorder.  Rickets'  and  Griffin's  guns  were  captured 
and  turned  upon  the  bewildered  foe,  who  were  driven  at  all  points  from 
the  plateau  into  the  fields  below. 

The  charge  had  been  successful,  but  the  success  was  dearly  pur- 
chased. Bee,  Bartow  and  Fisher,  and  a  host  of  others,  had  paid  for  it 
with  their  lives. 

As  soon  as  General  Bee  had  finished  his  address  to  his  men,  Mar- 
shall dashed  off  rapidly  towards  General  Johnston's  headquarters.  It 
was  about  half-past  three  o'clock  when  he  reached  them,  and  delivered 
his  message. 

"  My  God  !"  cried  General  Johnston,  in  a  voice  of  agony,  "  where 
am  I  to  get  reinforcements?  Gh  !  for  the  four  regiiuents  I  left  behind 
rce  !" 

His  prayer  was  answered.  Scarcely  had  he  spoken  when  he  was 
fctartlcd  by  a  loud  and  thrilling  cheer,  which  burst  from  his  rear.    Be 


The  Aid- de- Camp.  95 

turned  and  gazed  earnestly  in  the  direction  from  which  the  cheer 
carae. 

"  Have  they  outflanked  us  ?"  he  muttered  through  his  clenched  teeth. 

A  dense  cloud  of  dust  rising:  darkly  against  the  clear  sky,  revealed 
the  approach  of  a  large  body  of  troops.  They  came  nearer.  The 
eagle  oye  of  the  Patriot  General  sought  in  vain  to  penetrate  the  cloud. 
Five  minutes  of  painful  suspense  passed  away,  and  his  face  grew  as 
pa'e  and  as  rigid  as  marble.  Suddenly  the  head  of  the  column  carae 
in  aight.  They  were  advancing  at  the  double-quick  step.  Johnston's 
features  grew  paler,  and  he  breathed  painfully.  A  moment  more,  and 
a  cry  of  joy  broke  from  his  lips.  He  had  recognized  them,  and  he 
shouted  impulsively  : 

«  Kirby  Smith,  by  all  the  gods!     Thank  God  fbr  it." 

Then  tearing  a  leaf  from  a  small  blank  book  which  he  held  in  his 
hand,  he  wrote  upon  it  hurriedly,  and  handing  it  to  Marshall,  he 
exclaimed,  quickly : 

"  Ride,  sir,  for  j'our  life,  and  give  this  to  General  Smith.  Head  it 
CD  your  way  to  him.  Then  return  to  General  Beauregard,  tell  him 
that  Smith  is  coming  to  his  assistance,  and  repeat  to  him  the  contents 
of  this  paper." 

Hastily  saluting  the  Commander-in-Chief,  Marshall  dashed  off.  He 
reached  General  Smith,  gave  the  order,  and  returning  with  speed  to  Gen'l 
Keauregard, repeated  to  him  General  Johnston's  orders  to  General  Smith. 

Beauregard's  eyes  brightened. 

"■  We  shall  whip  them  now,"  he  said,  joyfully. 

General  Johnston,  in  leaving  General  Smith  at  Piedmont,  had 
ordered  him  to  push  on  with  all  speed  and  meet  him  at  Manassas  the 
next  day.  But  Smith  was  delayed,  and  did  net  arrive  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Manassas  until  the  afternoon  of  the  21st.  Here,  for  the 
first  time,  he  heard,  high  above  the  rattle  of  the  cars,  the  thunder  of 
the  guns.  At  once  he  knew  that  the  great  battle,  so  long  expected 
was  going  on,  and  that  he  was  needed  there.  Hastily  disembarking 
his  men  from  the  train,  he  pushed  on  at  double-quick  time,  guided  only 
by  the  roar  of  the  battle.     His  arrival  was  indeed  opportune. 

As  General  Smith  led  his  men  into  action,  he  was  wounded  and 
carried  from  the  field,  and  the  command  devolved  upon  Colonel  Elzey. 

Early  and  Cocke  had  now  come  up,  and  General  Beauregard  gave  the 
order  for  the  final  advance  upon  the  enemy.  The  attack  was  hot  and 
impetuous.  Early's  brigade  had  outflanked  the  enemy  on  the  right, 
and  now  they  were  assailed  in  front  and  on  their  flank  and  in  the  rear. 
They  fell  back  in  confusion.  Each  moment  their  terror  grew  wildoT 
The  rout  had  begun. 


96  The  Aid-ie-CamiJ, 

On,  on  STvept  the  glittering  line  of  Southern  steel,  driving  the 
bewildered  foe  before  it.  Only  a  few  hundred  yards  distant  lay  the 
sparkling  waters  of  Bull  Run,  which  the  enemy  had  crossed  so  Taunt- 
ingly in  the  morning.  A  fresh  charge  increased  their  panic,  and 
breaking,  they  fled  in  the  wildest  confusion.  The  rout  was  complete. 
The  right  and  centre  of  the  Confederate  army  were  advanced,  and  the 
pursuit  became  general. 

Let  us  pause  now  and  glance  at  a  scene  in  another  portion  of  the 
field. 

Just  as  the  rout  began,  a  man  of  lofty  stature,  whose  gray  hair  fell 
carelessly  around  his  noble  and  striking  features,  rode  out  of  Camp 
Pickens,  surrounded  by  a  group  of  officers  and  civilians.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  suit  of  plain  gray  homespun,  and  a  white  slouched  hat 
was  placed  carelessly  upon  his  head.  His  eyes  gleamed  with  pride  as 
he  listened  to  the  cheers  that  rose  in  the  distance,  and  then  moistened 
with  pity  as  he  beheld  the  torn  and  mangled  forms  of  the  wounded, 
borne  by  him. 

A  man  was  carried  by  upon  a  litter.  At  a  sign  from  the  horseman, 
the  bearers  paused  with  their  burden,  and  the  riders  checked  their 
steeds.  The  stranger  approached  the  litter,  and  bending  forward,  said 
in  soft  and  gentle  tones  : 

"  My  poor  fellow,  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  thus." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  replied  the  sufferer,  as  he  feebly  opened  his  eyes,  and 
fixed  them  upon  the  stranger;  "they've  done  for  me  now;  but  my 
father's  there  yet !  our  army's  there  yet !  our  cause  is  there  yet !"  and 
then  raising  himself  on  his  arm,  he  cried  enthusiastically,  while  his 
pale  face  shone  with  an  almost  Heavenly  glory,  "  and  libsrty's  there 
yet." 

He  sank  back  exhausted,  while  the  stranger's  features  seemed  to  catch 
the  glory  which  was  shed  from  the  sufferer's  countenance.  One  of  the 
riders  bent  forward,  and  exclaimed  impulsively : 

"  Look  up,  my  friend,  and  receive  your  reward.  It  was  the  Presi- 
dent himself  that  spoke  to  you." 

The  youth  opened  his  eyes  and  fixed  them  eagerly  upon  the  stranger. 
He  raised  himself  on  his  arm,  and  gazed  earnestly  at  him.  Then  sink- 
ing back,  he  murmured,  with  a  happy  smile : 

"  Yes !  it  is  Jeff.  Davis.     Clod  bless  him !" 

A  shade  passed  over  his  features;  the  silver  chord  was  loosed,  and 
the  brave  young  spirit  had  taken  its  flight. 

Manly  eyes  were  dim  with  tears,  and  there  was  a  silence  among  the 
horsemen,  as  they  turned  their  steeds  towards  the  battle-field  and  rode 
rapidly  away. 


The  Aid-de-Camp,  97 

It  was  indeed  the  President,  who  had  just  arrived  from  Richmond, 
in  time  to  witness  the  hard  won  victory  of  his  countrymen,  and  the 
shameful  flight  of  the  enemy. 

The  shout  of  "  Davis  !  Davis  !"  was  passed  from  man  to  man  as  he 
rode  on.  The  dying  heard  the  cry  as  it  pealed  from  a  thousand  lipg, 
and  feehly  raised  themselves  to  catch  a  last  glimpse  of  their  idolized 
President.  Hundreds,  who  had  been  borne  from  the  field  wounded 
and  exhausted,  sprang  up  and  rushed  back  with  him.* 

Let  us  return  to  the  pursuit. 

Just  as  the  rout  began,  General  Beauregard  directed  Marshall  to  go 
to  Colonel  Radford,  who  was  in  command  of  a  regiment  of  Virginia 
cavalry  and  order  him  to  charge  the  retreating  enemy,  and  guide  him 
to  a  point  which  he, indicated.  Marshall  hastened  on  and  soon  found 
Colonel  Radford,  who  was  sitting  on  his  horse  at  the  head  of  his  regi- 
ment. The  men  were  all  fine  specimens  of  the  sons  of  the  Old 
Dominion,  and  were  impatiently  awaiting  orders  to  join  in  the  fray. 
Marshall  delivered  General  Beauregard's  order  to  Colonel  Radford, 
who,  turning  to  his  men,  shouted  : 

"  Men]  now  is  our  time.     Forward!" 

Away  they  dashed  at  a  full  gallop.  Marshall  rode  beside  Colon*! 
Radford,  whose  fine  face  was  glowing  with  excitement.  A  cavalry 
charge  was  new  to  Marshall,  and  thrilling  beyond  description.  Cross- 
ing Bull  Run  below  the  Stone  Bridge,  they  made  for  the  rear  of  the 
flying  foe,  while  on  all  sides  they  heard  the  yells  of  the  pursuers,  the 
acreame  of  the  fugitives,  and  the  thtmder  of  the  guns. 

"  Now  the  headlong  pace  grew  faster," 

and  away  the  horsemen  thundered  over  the  ditches,  fences,  brooks  and 
trees.  In  a  moment  they  were  upon  the  flank  of  the  enemy.  A  bat- 
tery was  passing  at  the  time,  supported  by  four  regiments,  covering  the 
retreat  of  the  Federal  army.  Upon  this  the  regiment  dashed,  dividing 
in  the  charge.  The  infantry  broke  and  fled  in  confusion,  but  the 
gunners  stood  firm.  Unslinging  their  shot  guns  the  cavalry  opened  a 
rapid  and  efi"ective  fire  upon  the  enemy;  and,  then,  drawing  their 
sabres,  dashed  down  indiscriminately  upon  them. 

The  troopers  separated,  some  following  the  fugitives  in  their  flight. 
Marshall  now  found  himself  with  a  small  group  of  officers  and  men. 
The  battery  was  preparing  to  open  on  them. 

"  Charge  the  guns !"  he  shouted. 

•  I  have  united  two  incidents.  One  related  by  Captain  McFarland,  of  tfa« 
Virginia  cavalry— the  other  by  President  Davis! 

7 


98  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

The  force  was  too  small  and  they  were  compelled  to  retreat  to  their 
main  body.     As  they  did  so,  the  guns  opened  on  them. 

Marshall  fired  his  revolver  at  one  of  the  men  who  was  in  the  act  of 
discharging  a  cannon.  The  fellow  reeled  and  fell.  Marshall  bent  low 
in  the  saddle,  and  the  grape  from  the  battery  whistled  over  him.  He 
reached  the  flank  of  the  enemy  and  pausing,  fired  his  revolver  at  the 
column  which  was  passing  him.  He  was  now  entirely  separated  from 
his  friends,  and  he  turned  to  ride  back.  Soon  he  came  up  with  a 
Southern  battery  which  was  thundering  on  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy. 

"Whose  battery  is  this?"  he  shouted. 

"Kemper's!"  was  the  reply;  and  Captain  Kemper  at  once  rode  up 
to  hina.  Marshall  told  him  who  he  was^  and  determined  to  accompany 
him.  • 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  said  Captain  Kemper.  "  I  shall  be  glad  to  have 
you  accompany  me."* 

They  dashed  on.  Now  the  guns  were  unlimbered  and  the  roads 
swept  of  the  fugitives,  who  fled  along  them  in  the  wildest  terror.  Now 
a  FederaJ  battery  covered  the  retreat.  Kemper's  shells  and  solid  shot 
were  hurled  upon  it,  dismounting  guns,  breaking  carriages,  and  sweep- 
ing drivers  and  cannoniers  from  their  horses  and  boxes.  The  can- 
noniers  cut  the  traces,  and  mounting  the  horses,  abandoned  the  guns 
and  fled.  Wagons  were  broken  down,  and  the  bridge  over  Cub  liun 
was  choked  up  with  rubbish.  The  fords  were  blocked  up,  and  the 
wildest  confusion  prevailed  everywhere.  Arms,  clothing  and  equipments 
were  scattered  along  the  road  and  over  the  country;  and  the  dead  and 
wounded^  together  with  those  who  had  been  overcome  by  exhaustion,  lay 
thickly  on  every  side.  A  dense  mass  of  fugitives  poured  along  the 
roads,  through  fields  and  over  the  hills,  screaming  frantically  with  rage 
and  fright.  Men  were  trampled  under  foot  by  the  bewildered  horsemen, 
who  dashed  into  the  throng  at  full  speed.  Those  who  were  overtaken 
by  the  pursuers  fell  upon  their  knees  and  begged  for  mercy. 

No  language  can  describe,  and  no  mind,  save  that  of  one  who  wit- 
nessed it,  can  comprehend  the  terrors  of  that  terrible  rout.  A  great  army 
was  disorganized,  demoralized  and  ruined  by  it. 

It  was  night,  and  the  moon  had  risen,  as  Marshall,  returning  to 
General  Beauregard's  headquarters,  pa.ssed  over  the  battle-field.  The 
moon  was  shining  down  in  unclouded  brilliancy,  lighting  up  the  field 
with  a  strange  and  solemn  light.  Men  were  lying  on  all  sides,  and  in 
every  conceivable  position.     The  groans  of  the  wounded  rose  fearfully 

*The  incidents  of  the  charge  arc  taken  from  the  narrative  of  Captain  Mc 
Farland,  which  is  given  in  Mr.  Pollard's  History  of  the  War. 


Tlie  Aid-de-Camp.  99 

upon  the  air,  chilling  the  listener's  blood.  It  is  a  fearful  sigl^t,  a 
battle-field  after  the  ttrife  is  over;  and  now  the  moonlight  seemed  to 
heighten  all  its  horrors.  Marshall  had  not  been  able,  during  the 
excitement  of  the  day,  to  realize  the  terrors  of  the  fight,  but  now  as  he 
looked  back  upon  them  he  wondered  that  he  should  have  escaped; 
and  he  uttered  a  prayer  of  thankfulness  for  his  safety. 

As  he  rode  on  he  was  attracted  by  the  loud  neighing  of  a  horse.  He 
rode  up  to  the  spot,  and  there  behold  a  sight  that  touched  his  heart. 

An  officer  lay  upon  the  ground,  badly  wounded.  By  him  stood  his 
faithful  horse.  The  noble  animal  lowered  his  head  and  rubbed  his 
mouth  gently  over  the  unfortunate  man's  body,  and  then  raising  his 
head  uttered  a  loud  and  painful  neigh.  Then  he  lowered  his  head 
again,  and  the  wounded  man,  raising  bis  hand,  gently  and  affectionately 
stroked  his  fdce. 

Marshall  dismounted,  and  approaching  the  wounded  man,  asked : 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  sir  ?" 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  some  one,"  said  the  officer  gratefully  "  I  am  not 
suffering  much,  but  I  am  very  thirsty.  If  you  will  place  me  on  my 
horse,  I  think  I  can  reach  a  hospital." 

Marshall  gave  him  some  water  from  his  canteen,  and  placed,  him  on 
his  horse.  Then  mounting  his  own,  he  rode  by  him,  and  supported 
him. 

"  This  horse,"  said  the  officer,  as  they  rode  slowly  along,  "  is  a  noble 
animal.  He  staid  by  my  side  after  I  was  wounded,  and  seemed  to 
suffer  real  pain  at  seeing  me  so  helpless." 

They  soon  reached  a  hospital,  and  Marshall  having  seen  that  the 
wounded  man  was  properly  cared  for,  rode  off  towards  headquarter*! 

When  he  entered  the  room  where  General  Beauregard  was,  he  found 
the  President,  General  Johnston,  and  a  number  of  officers  there,  also. 
He  advanced  to  General  Beauregard. 

"  I  became  separated  from  Colonel  Radford,  lost  my  way,  and  stop- 
ped to  help  a  wounded  man,  or  I  would  have  returned  sooner.  General/' 
*  he  said,  in  explanation  of  his  long  absence. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Beauregard.  "I  am  rejoiced  to  see  you,  for  I 
feared  that  you  had  been  hurt." 

Then  leading  him  to  the  President,  he  continued  :  "  This  is  the 
officer  of  whom  I  was  just  speaking.  Your  Excellency.  This  is  Lieu- 
tenant Mar^shall,  President  Davis." 

The  President  held  out  his  hand,  warmly. 

"I  am  glad  to  meet  you,  Capfam,"  he  said,  kindly.  "General 
Beauregard  speaks  highly  of  you." 


100  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

"I  am  only  a  Lieutenant,  Your  Excellency,"  said  Marshall,  thinking 
that  his  title  had  been  misunderstood. 

"  You  are  a  Captain  novr,"  said  the  President,  with  a  smile. 

Marshall  was  confused  by  his  unexpected  promotion,  and  stammered 
out  his  thanks.     The  President  interrupted  him,  and  said,  kindly  : 

^'  Never  mind,  Captain.     '  Your  oodesty  is  equal  to  your  bravery.'  " 

Marshall  gazed  around  in  a  state  of  bewilderment.  He  saw  the 
dark  eyes  of  General  Johnston  bent  upon  him  kindly.  The  General 
held  out  his  hand  to  him  : 

"  I  congratulate  you  upon  your  promotion,  Captain,"  he  said,  with 
one  of  his  fascinating  smiles.  "  You  see  now  that  General  Beauregard 
was  right  last  night.     The  left  was  the  road  to  promotion." 

"  Captain,"  exclaimed  General  Beauregard,  "  you  will  remain  upon 
my  staff.     You  are  now  one  of  my  regular  Aides." 

Marshall  was  overwhelmed  by  his  good  fortune.  He  retired  into  the 
group  of  officers,  and  received  their  congratulations.  A  hand  was 
placed  upon  his  shoulder,  and  looking  up,  he  saw  the  grave,  calm  face 
of  General  Jackson.  The  General  drew  him  aside,  and  said  to  him  in 
a  low  tone 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  of  your  promotion,  though  I  am  very  sorry 
to  lose  you.  I  knew  when  I  saw  you  praying  at  Harper's  Ferry,  that 
you  would  be  successful.  Continue  to  prayj  it  is  the  secret  of  all 
true  success." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CAPTAIN  Marshall's  appointment  upon  General  Beauregard's  staff 
was  very  pleasant  to  him.  His  duties  were  not  heavy,  as  the  army 
lay  motionless  around  Centreville.  Early  in  August  he  obtained  a 
short  leave  of  absence,  and  went  to  Ptichmond  on  a  visit.  Here  he 
met  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wortbington  and  Mary.  Charlie  was  in  the 
1st  Maryland  regiment,  and  he  had  seen  him  frequently.  His  visit 
was  delightful.  He  was  anxious  to  have  his  marriage  with  Mary  cele- 
brated befoi-e  his  return  to  the  army. 

"  Wait,  Edward,  until  we  can  see  our  way  a  little  clearer,"  said  the 
old  gentleman,  "  and  then  you  can  have  her." 

In  vain  he  urged  Mr.  Wortbington  to  recall  his  decision,  the  old 
man  was  firm. 

Soon  news  came  that  the  army  was  advancing  towards  the  Potomac, 
and  Marshall  hastened  back.  He  found  the  advance  of  the  army 
lying  at  Munson's,  Mason's  and  Upton's  hills.  From  these  points  the 
Federal  Capitol  could  be  seen  in  the  distance,  and  the  drums'  of  the 
Federal  camp  heard.  The  gage  of  battle  was  boldly  thrown  down, 
but  the  "  Young  Napoleon"  declined  to  take  it  up. 

One  day,  while  the  army  was  lying  at  Munson's  Hill,  Marshall  was 
parsing  a  tent,  when  some  one  called  him.  It  was  a  Surgeon  with 
whom  he  was  intimately  acquainted. 

"  Come  here.  Captain,"  said  the  Surgeon.  "  There  is  a  Yankee 
Major  in  this  tent.  He  is  dying,  and  he  raves  terribly.  He  has 
mentioned  your  name  frequently.     Come  in  and  see  if  you  know  him." 

Marshall  was  surprised  at  this,  and  entered  the  tent,  which  was  used 
for  hospital  purposes. 

On  a  low,  rude  pallet,  he  saw  a  large,  fine-looking  man,  dressed  in 
the  uniform  of  a  Federal  Major.  He  was  raving  terribly,  shouting 
and  cursing  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  Marshall  bent  over  him.  To  his 
astonishment, he  recognized  in  the  wounded  man,  his  old  enemy.  Captain, 
now  Major  Cameron. 

"  How  came  he  here,  Doctor  ?"  he  asked. 

"  He  was  wounded  and  captured  in  a  skirmish  last  night,"  replied 
the  Surgeon.     "  But  who  is  he  ?" 


102  Tlie  Aid-de-Qamp. 

"  He  is  a  Major  Cameron/'  said  MarsLall.  "  I  know  him  when  he 
was  on  Cadwallader's  Staflf.  He  is  the  man  that  locked  me  up  in  Fort 
McHenr}'.     But  poor  fellow,  I  pity  him  now." 

The  dying  man  ceased  his  raving  for  a  moment,  and  gazed  at  them. 
Marshall  bent  over  him  and  asked  : 

"  Do  you  know  me,  Major  Cameron  V 

Cameron  gazed  at  him  fiercely. 

"  Why  do  you  come  after  me  now?"  he  muftered.  ''I  tell  you  I 
know  nothing  of  her.  She  escaped.  I  know  not  where."  Then 
raising  himself  on  his  arm,  he  shouted  :  "  Drive  faster — faster.  Don't 
you  see  that  hack  coming  after  us.  Ha  I  ha !  it  is  down — broken — 
away — away.  Ha  !  I  have  you,  my  lady  bird,  I  have  you  now."  Then 
he  sank  back,  muttering :  "  Gone,  gone.  But  that  woman  shall  pay 
for  it." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  he  raised  himself  up  with  a 
great  effort.  His  features  trembled  convulsively,  and  his  eyes  seemed 
starting  from  their  sockets,  he  pointed  tremblingly  in  the  direction  in 
which  he  was  gazing,  and  muttered  in  a  low,  fearful  tone  that  almost 
chilled  his  hearers'  blood  : 

"  Look  !  Look  !  Do  you  see  her  as  she  stands  there  ?  Oh  !  she  is 
as  beautiful  as  an  angel ;  but  there  is  an  ugly  wound  in  her  breast. 
She  is  dying.  Agnes,  Agnes,  pardon !  pity !  I  was  mad,  I  did  not 
mean -to  kill  you.     Do  not  look  so  terribly  at  me." 

He  shrank  back  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  while  he 
shook  with  the  wildest  terror.  Then  he  sprang  up  to  his  full  height, 
and  struggled  violently,  as  if  trying  to  shake  off  some  one. 

"She  has  me  in  her  power,"  he  gasped.  "She  is  dragging  me 
down  to  hell.  How  the  flames  hiss  and  roar.  3Iercy,"  he  shouted, 
frantically,  "  mercy,  Agnes,  mercy." 

He  fell  back  upon  the  bed,  and  his  struggles  grew  fainter.  Soon 
they  ceased  entirely,  and  he  lay  still  and  motionless.  The  Surgeon 
placed  his  hand  upon  his  breast  and  then  exclaimed,  solemnly : 

"  He  is  dead." 

"He  has  gone  to  receive  his  reward,"  said  Marshall,  as  he  passed 
out  of  the  tent.  "  It  was  a  fearful  scene,  and  I  trust  that  I  may  never 
see  another  like  it." 

Time  passed  away,  and  the  army  still  lay  at  Munson's  Hill. 

One  night  Marshall  was  awakened  by  some  one  shaking  him.  Rous- 
ing himself,  he  found  that  it  was  General  Beauregard. 

"  Get  up  and  dress  at  once,  Captain.     I  want  you,"  said  the  General. 

Marshall  was  soon  ready,  and  accompanied  Beauregard  from  the 
tent.    They  paused  at  the  door,  and  the  General  directed  him  to 


^  The  Aid-de-Camp.  103 

watch  the  Heavens  in  the  direction  of  the  Federal  camp.  He  did  so, 
and  in  a  few  seconds  saw  a  brilliant  streak  of  light  flash  across  the 
Heavens.     This  was  followed  by  a  similar  light  in  another  direction. 

"  What  do  those  rockets  mean,  General  ?"  he  asked. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  want  to  know,"  replied  Beauregard,  laughing. 
''  I  think  there  is  some  movement  on  foot,  and  I  mean  to  play  Mc- 
Clellan  a  trick.  I  want  you  to  wake  up  Colonel  Alexander,  ride  along 
the  lines  with  him,  and  send  up  two  dozen  rockets  at  different  points." 

Marshall  aroused  Colonel  Alexander,  and  delivered  General  Beaure- 
gard's instructions.  They  set  out  and  soon  fired  their  last  rocket. 
The  enemy's  rockets  disappeared,  and  nothing  was  seen  of  them  during 
the  night. 

It  was  afterwards  discovered  that  McClellan  was  advancing  in  heavy 
force  upon  the  Confederate  position,  and  that  the  rockets  were  thrown 
up  from  the  different  portions  of  his  army  as  they  moved  off.  When 
he  saw  the  rockets  going  up  from  the  Southern  lines  he  supposed  that 
his  plans  had  been  betrayed,  and  immediately  abandoned  the  move- 
ment. His  force  was  greatly  superior  to  that  of  the  Confederates, 
who  might  have  experienced  a  severe  loss  but  for  the  sagacity  of  their 
wily  General. 

On  the  27th  of  September,  JIarshall  rode  over  to  Munson's  Hill  to 
carry  an  order  from  General  Beauregard.  While  there,  he  noticed  a 
number  of  men  busily  engaged  in  mounting  a  section  of  a  stove  pipe 
and  a  wooden  churn  upon  the  slight  infantry  breastworks  which  had 
been  erected  on  the  hill.     He  rode  up  to  them,  and  asked : 

"  What  are  you  doing?" 

'^  Only  mounting  some  Quakers  to  frighten  the  Yanks,"  replied  one 
of  the  men,  laughing.  "  We  are  going  to  fall  back,  and  these  will  do 
to  hold  the  enemy  in  check  until  we  get  away." 

Marshall  laughed  heartily.     It  seemed  supremely  ridiculous. 

That  day  the  army  fell  back  to  Fairfax  Court  House,  and  finally  to 
Centreville.  The  day  after  the  army  reached  Centreville,  Marshall 
rode  to  the  camp  of  the  Maryland  regiment,  to  see  Charlie  Worthing, 
ton.  To  his  great  astonishment,  he  found  that  his  friend  had  been 
captured  in  a  skirmish  three  days  before.  In  a  fortnight  after  this, 
he  received  a  letter  from  Mary,  telling  him  that  her  brother  had  been 
heard  from.  He  was  a  prisoner  in  the  Baltimore  City  Jail.  Marshall's 
mind  was  at  once  made  up.  He  determined  to  bring  about  his  friend's 
-escape  from  the  Federal  power.  Charlie  had  aided  him  once,  in  a 
similar  predicament,  and  he  determined  to  assist  him  now.  He 
informed  General  Beauregard  of  his  plan,  and  asked  his  permission  to 
execute  it. 


104  The  Aid-de-Camy. 

"  I  have  some  matters  that  I  wish  to  arrange  in  Baltimore,"  said  the 
Greneral,  "  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  them  attended  to  by  you." 

Having  obtained  permission,  Marshall  at  once  set  out.  This  was 
about  the  first  of  December.  He  had  little  difficulty  in  getting  into 
Maryland,  and  soon  reached  Baltimore. 

Here  he  learned  that  Charlie  Worthington  was  in  jail.  He  had 
been  so  open  and  defiant  in  his  treason  (?)  that  he  had  been  confined 
iu  a  separate  cell.  He  resolved  to  visit  him,  and  try  to  make  some 
arrangements  to  efi'ect  his  escape.  In  order  to  see  him,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  obtain  a  pass  from  General  Dix,  the  Federal  Commander.  This 
he  resolved  to  do. 

He  found  General  Dix  at  his  headquarters  on  Holliday  street.  He 
was  sitting  at  a  table,  writing.  Before  he  could  state  his  business  the 
General  was  called  out  of  the  room.  Marshall  glanced  at  the  table, 
and  on  it  saw  two  sheets  of  paper,  signed  "John  A.  Dix,  Major 
General,  Commanding  Department  op  Annapolis." 

"  I  may  need  these,"  he  said  quietly,  and  taking  them  from  the 
table,  he  placed  them  in  the  pocket  of  his  great  coat,  and  placed  two 
blank  sheets  of  paper  in  their  stead.  He  had  scarcely  resumed  his 
seat,  when  General  Dix  returned,  followed  by  a  clerk. 

"  Mr.  Jones,"  said  he,  approaching  the  table,  and  resuming  his  seat, 
"here  are  the  papers."  He  took  up  the  sheets  and  glanced  at  them. 
"Stay,"  he  exclaimed,  laughing,  "  I  neglected  to  sign  them  before  I 
went  out.     Fill  them  up  at  once." 

He  affixed  his  signature  to  the  papers  and  handed  them  to  the 
clerk,  who  immediately  left  the  room. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  the  General,  turning  to  Marshall,  "  do  you  wish  to 
see  me  V 

"  I  came.  General,"  replied  Marshall,  "  to  request  permission  to  visit 
an  acquaintance,  who  is  now  paying  the  penalty  of  his  folly." 

"Who  is  he,  and  where  is  he  confined?"  asked  the  General. 

"His  name  is  Worthington.  He  is  one  of  the  rebel  prisoners  con- 
fined in  the  jail,"  replied  Marshall. 

"What  is  your  name?"  asked  General  Dix,  gazing  at  him  scruti- 
nizingly, 

"  Henry  Edwards,"  replied  the  young  man,  quietly. 

"  I  do  not  ki^cw  you,  Mr.  Edwards,"  said  General  Dix.  "  You  may 
be  a  loyal  citizen,*but  I  have  no  proof  of  it.  Are  you  known  in  Bal- 
timore?" 

"I  am,  sir,"  replied  Marshall. 

"  Then  bring  mc  a  note  from  some  good  Union  man  in  the  city, 
certifying  to  your  loyalty,  and  I  will  grant  you  the  permission  that 


The  Aid-de-Gamp.  105 

you  desire.  You  had  better  come  in  the  morning,  as  I  shall  go  over  to 
Washington  this  afternoon." 

Marshall  rose,  and  expressed  his  thanks  for  the  offer. 

"  I  have  no  particular  business  with  hiiu,  General,"  he  said.  "But 
he  is  an  old  schoolmate,  and  I  think  I  may  be  able  to  bring  him  over 
to  the  side  of  the  Union." 

"If  all  accounts  be  true,"  said  General  Dix,  laughing,  "you  will 
have  a  difficult  task.     But  you  can  try  him.     Good  morning,  sir." 

Marshall  left  the  room  and  returned  to  the  house  of  a  friend,  with 
whom  he  was  staying.  Once  alone  in  his  room,  he  thought  over  a  plan 
which  he  had  formed  while  on  his  visit  to  General  Dix.  Then  he 
drew  forth  the  papers  that,  he  had  brought  with  him.  On  the  first  he 
wrote  as  follows : 

"  Headquarters,  Department  of  Annapolis,  1 
Baltimore,  December  13th,  1861.  j 
"  Captain  Henry  Edwards,  of  the  President's  Staff,  in  compliance 
with  a  demand  this  day  made  upon  me  by  the  Secretary  of  War,  is 
hereby  ordered  to  remove  from  the  City  Jail  the  person  of  one  Charles 
Worthington,  a  rebel  prisoner,  now  confined  there,  and  convey  him  to 
Washington,  to  be  examined  by  the  President.  The  Warden  of  the 
Jail  will  deliver  the  said  prisoner  to  Captain  Edwards,  upon  the 
authority  of  this  order." 

The  other  paper  he  filled  up  as  follows : 

"  Headquarters,  Department  of  Annapolis,  | 
Baltimore,  December  13th,  1861.  j 
"  All  persons  are  requested,  and  all  officers  and  soldiers  under  my 
command,  are  hereby  ordered  to  pass  Henry  Edwards  and  George 
Green  at  all  times,  and  all  places  within  this  Department,  unless 
specially  ordered  to  the  contrary.  The  above-mentioned  parties  are 
upon  Government  business." 

Both  of  these  papers  bore  the  signature  of  "  John  A.  Dix,  Major 
General,  &c." 

"  Now,  General  Dix,"  said  Marshall,  laughing,  as  he  read  the  papers- 
"I  think  I  can  make  a  better  use  of  these  than  you  could  have 
intended." 

The  gentleman  at  whose  house  Marshall  was  staying,  was  an  inti- 
mate friend,  and  an  ardent  Southerner.  Marshall  revealed  to  him  his 
plan,  and  asked  him  to  go  out  and  purchase  for  him  a  military  cap  and 
vest.  This  his  friend  did,  and  he  donned  them.  About  two  o'clock 
Marshall  took  leave  of  his  friend,  end  entering  a  hack,  ordered  the 


106  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

driver  to  carry  him  over  to  the  Jail.  He  soon  reached  the  place,  and 
alighting  from  the  carriage,  and  passing  through  the  "Warden's  house, 
he  entered  the  jail  yard.  As  he  was  passing  the  window  of  one  of  the 
cells,  he  paused  and  glanced  through  it.  He  saw  his  friend  seated 
■upon  a  rough  pallet,  with  his  head  resting  upon  his  hands.  His  great- 
est fear  had  been  that  in  his  surprise,  Charlie  would  recognize  him  and 
ruin  the  plot.  Now  he  could  prevent  this.  Taking  out  a  piece  of 
paper,  he  wrote  on  it  rapidly  with  a  pencil : 

"I  am  here  in  disguise  to  rescue  you.  I  have  adopted  a  bold  plan. 
Do  not  recognize  me.     Act  your  part  as  a  defiant  rebel. 

"  Marshall." 

Then  placing  his  mouth  to  the  window,  he  called  softly,  "  Charlie." 
The  prisoner  glanced  up,  and  3Iarshall  threw  him  the  paper.  He  saw 
him  pick  it  up  and  read  it,  and  then  he  passed  into  the  jail.  As  he 
entered  the  main  hall,  a  large,  florid-faced  man  rose  and  approached 
him. 

"I  wish  (o  see  Captain  James,  the  "Warden  of  the  Jail,"  said  Mar- 
shall to  him. 

"  That  is  my  name,  sir,"  said  the  man  politely. 

'•  I  have  an  order  to  carry  a  prisoner  to  "Washington,"  said  Marshall, 
drawing  out  a  paper  and  handing  it  to  him. 

Captain  James  opened  the  paper,  and  read  it  carefully,  and  his  man- 
ner grew  more  repectful  to  Marshall. 

"  This  is  a  very  strange  order.  Captain,"  he  said,  as  he  glanced  at 
the  young  man,  "  but  I  suppose  it's  all  right." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Marshall.  "  General  Dis  goes  over  to  "Washington 
this  afternoon.     I  am  to  meet  him  at  the  Depot  with  the  prisoner." 

"  How  do  you  intend  carrying  him  to  the  Depot?"  asked  the  '\\''arden. 

"  I  have  a  hack  at  the  gate,"  replied  Marshall. 

'•But  Captain,"  he  added,  "General  Dix  tells  me  that  he  is  very 
unruly,  and  advises  me  to  handcuff  him,  to  prevent  his  giving  me  any 
trouble.     If  he  should  attempt  to  escape,  this  will  settle  him." 

He  drew  a  finely  finished  Colt's  pistol  from  his  breast,  as  he  spoke. 
James  laughed,  and  turning  to  a  Turnkey,  told  him  to  bring  up  young 
Worthington. 

"  Put  a  pair  of  bracelets  on  him  first,  Joe,"  he  added. 

The  Turnkey  disappeared,  and  the  Warden  asked  Marshall  what 
was  wanted  of  the  prisoner  in  "Washington. 

"1  don't  know,"  he  replied,  "but  I  heard  the  President  say  that  he 
has  in  his  possession  information  that  we  must  obtain  cither  by  fair 
means  or  foul." 


The  Aid-de-Camjp.  107 

In  a  few  minutes  Charlie  was  led  in  by  the  Turnkey.  He  was 
coarsely  dressed,  and  bore  marks  of  the  severity  of  his  confinement. 
His  wrists  were  manacled,  and  he  walked  along  sullenly. 

"  Here  he  is,  sir,"  said  the  Turnkey.  "  And  this/'  he  added,  hand- 
ing Marshall  a  small  key,  "  unlocks  his  fetters." 

"  What  do  you  want  with  me  V  asked  Charlie,  gazing  fiercely  at 
3Iarshall. 

"  The  President  wants  to  see  you,  my  snappish  young  rebel,"  said 
Marshall,  mockingly. 

"  D^-n  the  President,"  said  Charlie,  sullenly, 

Marshall  walked  up  to  him  firmly,  and  drawing  his  pistol,  held  it 
before  him. 

"Young  man,"  said  he,  sternly,  "  my  orders  are  to  carry  you  to 
Washington,  and  I  intend  to  do  so.  If  you  go  quietly,  you  will  be 
treated  well.     If  jou  resist  me,  I  shall  blow  your  brains  out." 

Charlie's  eyes  sank,  and  he  assumed  an  expression  of  dogged  sub- 
mission. 

"  By  George  I"  cried  the  Warden,  admiringly,  "  Geno^i  Dix  would 
like  to  see  this.  He  has  been  trying  for  five  weeks  to  uo  what  you 
have  done  in  five  minutes." 

"  Come,"  said  Marshall,  "  we  must  go.  General  Dix  is  waiting  for 
us  at  the  cars.  Good-bye  Captain,"  he  added,  shaking  hands  with  the 
Warden . 

"  I  shall  keep  the  order  as  my  authority  for  delivering  the  prisoner 
to  you,"  said  the  Warden. 

'■'  Certainly,"  said  Marshall,  carelessly. 

Then  turning  to  Charlie,  he  seized  him  by  the  arm  and  led  him 
roughly  from  the  hall. 

They  passed  through  the  yard  and  the  Warden's  house,  and  entered 
the  hack.  Marshall  spoke  but  a  single  word  to  the  driver  as  they 
entered  it,  "Barnum's,"  and  they  were  soon  whirling  rapidly  away 
from  the  jail.  As  they  drove  off,  Marshall  removed  the  fetters  from 
Charlie's  wrists,  and  threw  them  into  the  Falls,  which  they  were  then 
crossing.     Then  they  broke  into  a*long  and  hearty  laugh. 

"You  played  your  part  adriiirably,  Marshall,"  said  Charlie  wiping 
his  eyes.     "  But  tell  me  all  about  the  affair." 

Marshall  explained  his  plan  to  him. 

"  We  are  not  out  of  danger  yet,  Charlie,"  he  continued.  "  We  have 
no  time  to  lose.  We  must  get  across  the  river  at  once.  We  may,  at 
any  moment,  be  detected  and  pursued.  The  trick  will  certainly  be 
discovered  to-morrow,  if  not  today,  and  we  must  get  the  start  of  our 
enemies." 


108  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  reacted  Barnum's.  Under  pretext  of  taking 
a  bath,  Charlie  vent  into  one  of  the  bathing  rooms  and  donned  the 
plain  black  suit  with  which  Marshall  had  provided  him.  Then  leaving 
the  hotel,  they  entered  a  new  hack,  and  ordered  the  driver  to  carry 
them  across  the  Long  Bridge  to  Brooklyn.  When  they  reached  the 
bridge,  the  hack  stopped,  and  a  sentinel  appeared  at  the  door.  Marshall 
produced  the  passport,  with  General  Dix's  signature,  and  handed  it  to 
him.  The  man  opened  it,  and  turning  it  upside  down,  glanced  at  it 
with  a  grave  look,  and  then  handing  it  back  to  Marshall,  turned  away 
with  a  satisfied  air.  Q''he  occupants  of  the  hack  could  scarcely  restrain 
their  laughter  at  this  little  scene.  The  hack  passed  on,  and  soon 
reached  the  Anne  Arundel  side.  They  drove  for  a  mile  beyond  Brook- 
lyn, when  they  dismissed  the  hack,  and  pushed  on  on  foot. 

"  We  shall  have  to  walk  for  ten  miles,"  said  Marshall.  "  After  that 
we  shall  find  friends,  who  will  furnish  us  with  hor^s." 

They  pressed  on,  and  shortly  after  dark,  reached  a  friend's  house. 

After  they  left  the  jail,  the  "Warden  paced  up  and  down  the  hall 
musing  u]^  the  strange  scene  that  had  just  occurred.  lie  read  and 
re-read  thWrder  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  until  he  knew  every  word 
by  heart.     Nearly  an  hour  elapsed.     Suddenly  he  paused. 

"  I  don't  half  like  what  I  have  done,"  he  said  deprecatingly,  "  but 
I  suppose  it's  all  right.  Anyhow,  I'll  ride  down  to  the  cars  and  see 
General  Dix  about  it." 

Mounting  his  horse,  he  proceeded  to  the  De^t.  He  found  General 
Dix  sitting  in  a  car,  reading  a  paper.  He  approached  him,  and  asked 
if  Captain  Edwards  had  arrived. 

"  Captain  Edwards,"  exclaimed  the  General,  in  surprise.  "  Who  is 
he?" 

"  The  President's  Aid  that  you  sent  to  me  for  one  of  the  prisoners," 
replied  the  Warden,  slowly. 

^'  There  is  no  such  officer  on  the  President's  Staff,"  said  General 
Dix,  completely  bewildered.  "  I  did  not  send  to  you  for  any  prisoner. 
What  do  you  mean.  Captain  James  ?" 

"  Isn't  this  your  order  ?"  asked  the  Warden,  upon  whose  mind  a 
new  light  began  to  dawn. 

Dix  took  the  paper,  and  as  he  read  it,  his  face  grew  crimson  with 
passion. 

"■  Tricked  by  Heaven  !"  he  shouted.  "  Captain  James,  that  man 
stole  this  paper  with  my  signature  this  morning.  His  real  name  is 
Edward  Marshall,  and  he  is  an  officer  on  Beauregard's  Staff.  My  de- 
tectives have  found  out  all  about  him,  and  are  now  on  his  track.  You 
have  been  fooled,  sir,  and  you  must  find  thesamen." 


The  Aid-de-Camp.  109 

The  Warden  was  thunderstruck.  The  General  glared  at  him  fu- 
riously. 

"  You  are  a  fine  Waiden,"  he  thundered. 

"  But  General,  that  is  your  signature,"  said  James,  pointing  to  the 
Federal  Commander's  own  sign  manual,  which  graced  the  bottom  of 
the  page. 

Dix  bit  his  lips  with  vexation. 

"  True,"  he  muttered.  "  You  were  not  so  much  to  blame  after  all. 
That  fellow  was  too  sharp  for  us.  Have  the  trains,  boats  and  bridges 
watched,  and  if  they  have  not  yet  left  the  city,  we  may  catch  them.  I 
will  be  back  in  the  morning." 

Here  the  train  moved  off,  and  the  conversation  was  interrupted. 
The  Warden  executed  the  General's  order,  and  a  rigid  search  was  in- 
stituted, but  no  traces  of  the  fugitives  could  be  discovered. 

Charlie  and  Marshall  were  provided  with  horses,  and  hastened  to- 
wards the  Potomac.  On  the  third  day  they  reached  Saint  Mary's 
county.     They  stopped  at  the  residence  of  a  friend. 

The  house  was  situated  on  the  bank  of  the  Potomac.  A  flight  of 
stairs,  almost  concealed  by  the  vines  which  overhung  them,  led  to  the 
water.  Here  a  boat,  with  a  sail  and  two  pairs  of  oars,  had  been  pro- 
vided by  their  friend. 

There  was  a  third  party  at  the  house,  who  had  been  there  for  seve- 
ral days  awaiting  an  opportunity  to  cross  the  Potomac.  -It  was  agreed 
that  they  should  cross  that  night.  During  the  afternoon,  the  host  and 
his  guest  were  seated  around  a  bright  fire,  and  Marshall  was  relating 
the  particulars  of  Charlie's  escape  from  the  Baltimore  Jail,  when  one 
of  the  gentlemen's  little  sons  rushed  in,  crying : 

"  Father,  the  Yankee  cavalry  are  coming." 

All  arose  in  alarm. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  host,  "you  must  cross  the  river  at  once.  Go 
down  to  the  boat,  and  pushout  from  the  shore,  but  lie  under  the  bushes 
until  the  cavalry  depart.  If  they  sec  you  crossing,  it  will  get  me  into 
trouble." 

They  hurried  down  to  the  water's  edge  and  entered  the  boat. 

Scarcely  had  they  left  the  house,  when  the  enemy's  cavalry  arrived. 
They  dismounted,  and,  rushing  in,  demanded  the  surrender  of  the 
Secessionists  whom  they  said  were  concealed  in  the  house.  The  owner 
of  the  mansion  protested  that  there  were  no  strangers  there,  but  the 
Federals  insisted  upon  searching  the  house.  This  they  did,  and  find- 
ing no  one,  they  departed,  vowing  vengeance  against  all  "  traitors" 
who  might  fall  into  their  hands.  When  they  had  gone,  the  gentleman 
descended  to  the  water. 


110  Tlie  Aid-de-Camp. 

"  You  must  cross  at  once,''  he  said,  addressing  the  occupants  of  the 
boat.  "  It  is  not  safe  for  3'ou  to  remain  here.  Farewell,  and  may  God 
speed  you." 

They  returned  the  farewell,  and  pushed  out  into  the  stream.  The 
river  was  about  ten  miles  wide  at  this  point,  and  a  stiff  breeze  was 
blowing  directly  from  the  North.  They  set  the  sail,  and  were  soon 
LToing  merrily  over  the  water.  When  they  had  gotten  about  three 
miles  from  the  shore,  they  saw  suddenly  loom  up  from  behind  a  point 
of  land  about  four  miles  off,  the  dark  hull  of  a  Federal  gun-boat. 

"  We  are  in  for  it  now,"  muttered  Marshall,  through  his  clenched 
teeth,  as  he  grasped  the  tiller  with  a  firmer  hand. 

All  eyes  were  bent  anxiously  upon  the  gun-boat.  Suddenly  a  wreath 
of  white  smoke  curled  from  her  side,  followed  by  a  dull,  booming  re- 
port, and  a  shot  fell  into  the  water  nearly  a  mile  off. 

<'  She  has  seen  us,  and  is  giving  chase,"  cried  Marshall.  "  Out  with 
the  oars,  gentlemen,  while  I  manage  the  sail.  We  have  a  long  dis- 
tance to  go,  but  we  have  a  fair  start." 

The  oars  were  shipped,  and  four  strong  arms  labored  vigorously  at 
them.  The  gunboat  fired  rapidly,  and  at  each  shot  her  range  grew 
more  accurate. 

The  W'ind  freshened  every  minute,  and  soon  it  was  blowing  a  perfect 
hurricane.  The  river  was  covered  with  foam  and  the  Waves  were  run- 
ning quite  high.  The  little  boat  flew  swiftly  over  the  water,  now  lying 
almost  over  on  her  side,  and  her  sail  bending  and  stretching  to  its  ut- 
most capacity. 

An  hour  of  fearful  suspense  passed  away.  The  gunboat  was  gaining 
rapidly  on  the  little  vessel,  firing  as  she  came.  The  shore  was  fully  a 
(j^uarter  of  a  mile  distant,  and  the  gunooat  not  a  mile  behind.  Sud- 
denly, a  shot  crashed  against  the  frail  mast,  literally  splintering  it,  and 
the  sail  fell  listlessly  over  the  side.  The  crew  of  the  gunboat  waved 
their  hats  and  cheered  lustily.     They  now  felt  sure  of  their  prize. 

But  the  occupants  of  the  boat  had  not  been  idle.  Scarcely  had  the 
mast  fallen,  when  it  was  seized  and  thrown  overboard.  The  oars, 
which  had  been  taken  in,  after  the  wind  became  so  high,  were  now  put 
out,  and  the  little  boat  again  moved  towards  the  shore.  The 
steamer  gained  rapidly  upon  them.  In  a  few  minutes  she  was  in  rifle 
range.  Marshall  now  put  out  his  oar  to  measure  the  depth  of  the 
water,  and  found  that  it  would  not  reach  his  waist. 

"  AVe  must  wade  ashore,"  he  shouted  to  his  companions,  and  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word,^hc  sprang  overboard,  and  commenced  moving 
towards  the  shore.  They  followed  his  example,  and  abandoned  the 
boat.     The  grape  whistled  over  their  heads,  but  they  reached  the 


The  Aid-de-Ca7np.  Ill 

shore.  Here  they  waved  their  hats  and  gave  a  cheer  of  exultation, 
which  was  answered  with  a  yell  of  fury  from  the  crew  of  the  gun- 
boat.    They  then  sprang  up  the  bank  and  disappeared  in  the  bushes. 

Once  in  Virginia,  they  were  soon  enabled  to  reach  their  destinations. 
Charlie  went  to  Righmond  to  see  his  parents,  and  the  gentleman  who 
had  come  over  witli  them  accompanied  him,  while  Marshall  returned 
to  the  army.  He  related  his  adventures  to  General  Beauregard.  The 
G-eneral  laughed  heartily  when  Marshall  told  him  how  he  had  fooled 
Dix,  and  congratulated  him  upon  the  success  of  his  plan,  and  his  safe 
return. 

A  few  davs  after  his  return,  Marshall  accompanied  General  Beaure- 
gard in  a  reconnoisance  of  the  enemy's  position.  They  were  riding 
slowly  and  cautiously  along,  having  accomplished  their  objects,  when 
General  Beauregard  suddenly  exclaimed  : 

"  Ride,  gentlemen,  for  your  lives.     They  have  seen  us." 

All  wheeled  their  horses  and  dashed  off.  As  they  did  so,  four  field 
pieces  were  discharged  from  a  clump  of  trees  in  which  they  had  been 
concealed,  not  five  hundred  yards  in  front  of  them,  and  grape  and 
cannister  flew  on  all  sides  of  the  Confederate  commander  and  his  staff, 
who  sped  rapidly  on.  Marshall  felt  a  sharp  and  sudden  pain  in  the 
calf  ot  'lis  left  leg.  He  leaned  forward  and  clasped  his  horse  around 
the  neek  He  knew  that  he  was  wounded,  and  he  feared  that  he 
would  not  be  able  to  remain  on  his  horse.  But  holding  fast  to  the 
neck  of  the  noble  animal,  he  managed  to  retain  his  seat. 

At  last  the  escort  which  General  Beauregard  had  left  behind  him 
was  reached.  Marshall  had  only  strength  enough  to  check  his  horse, 
and  then,  exhausted  by  the  loss  of  blood,  reeled,  and  would  have  fuller, 
to  the  ground,  had  not  one  of  the  men  received  him  in  his  arms.  He 
had  fainted. 

When  he  recovered  his  consciousness,  he  was  lying  in  his  quarters 
at  Centreville.  Several  persons  were  standing  by  him,  and  among 
them  was  General  Beauregard.  A  surgeon  was  sitting  by  him  with 
his  hand  upon  his  pulse,  Marshall  opened  his  eyes,  and  gazed  enqui- 
ringly around. 

'*  Where  am  I  ?"  he  asked,  feebly. 

"  In  your  own  quarters,"  said  General  Beauregard,  kindly.  "  You 
have  been  badly  hurt  in  the  leg  by  a  grape  shot.  You  are  too  weak  to 
talk  now.  Come,  gentlemen,"  he  continued,  "  we  had  better  retire. 
Captain  Marshall  needs  rest." 

They  went  out,  leaving  Marshall  alone  with  the  surgeon,  who  sat  oy 
him  for  some  time,  and  told  him  that  he  must  not  talk,  but  must  be 
still  until  he  recovered  some  of  his  strength. 


112  The  Aid-de-Camp. 

For  the  first  week  Marshall  suffered  intensely  from  his  wound  ;  hat 
afterwards  was  more  comfortable.  General  Beauregard  visited  him 
every  day.  He  had  conceived  a  warm  friendship  for  the  young  man, 
and  Marshall  in  his  turn,  fairly  idolized  the  General.  One  day  Gene- 
ral Beauregard  came  to  him  and  said :  « 

"  Captain,  you  are  now  well  enough  to  be  moved.  I  expect  that 
you  will  be  more  comfortable  in  Richmond  among  your  friends  than 
here.  I  have  granted  you  a  furlough  until  you  recover.  I  expect  to 
be  ordered  to  assume  the  command  of  the  army  of  the  Mississippi  in  a 
short  time,  and  you  can  joiu  me  when  you  get  well." 

Marshall  expressed  his  gratitude,  and  accepted  the  offer.  The  nest 
day,  which  was  the  last  of  the  year,  he  started  for  Richmond. 

He  was  joyfully  welcomed  by  Mary  and  her  parents.  Old  Mr. 
Worthington  had  him  carried  to  his  house,  and  there  he  received  the 
kindest  attentions  of  his  dearest  friends.  In  a  few  weeks  he  was  able 
to  walk  with  the  aid  of  crutches.  The  surgeon  who  atten^d  him,  ifi- 
formed  him  that  he  would  never  recover  the  entire  use  or  his  leg — 
that  he  was  lame  for  life.  This  was  a  severe  blow  to  him,  for  he  had 
hoped  to  continue  in  his  country's  service.  Now  he  must  leave  it. 
His  career,  which  had  opened  so  brilliantly,  was  now  cut  short. 

One  evening  he  was  sitting  by  Mary,  lamenting  his  misfottune,  when 
the  beautiful  girl  said  gently  : 

"  I  am  deeply  pained  by  your  misfortune,  but  I  will  try  to  make  yoii 
so  happy  that  you  will  not  care  for  it." 

"  If  you  were  my  wife  now,"  he  exclaimed,  enthusiastically,  as  he 
drew  her  to  him,  and  gazed  upon  her  lovely  features,  "  I  would  not 
care  for  it." 

"  Then  forget  it  at  once,"  she  murmured,  gently,  while  her  eyes 
filled  with  a  tender  light,  and  she  gazed  softly  and  timidly  into  his 
face.  "  I  heard  papa  tell  my  mother  to-day  that  he  thought  you  had 
won  me  fairly,  and  that  we  might  now  be  married  as  soon  as  we 
pleased." 

Marshall  caught  her  to  his  breast  joyfully,  and  before  he  left  her 
that  evening,  the  wedding  day  was  fixed. 

Marshall  wrote  to  General  Beauregard,  informing  him  of  his  sur- 
geon's announcement  and  his  approaching  marriage. 

In  due  time  he  received  a  letter  from  the  General  sympathizing  with 
him  in  his  affliction,  congratulating  him  upon  his  good  fortune,  and  as- 
suring him  of  the  General's  unchanging  friendship. 

When  Marshal!  was  well  enough  to  walk  with  the  aid  of  a  can^, 
there  was  a  quiet  marriage  at  Grace  Church.     The  lovers  were  married 


The  Aidde-Carnp.  113 

without  any  parade  or  display,  and  returned  home  quietly,  and  soberly 
and  discreetly  entered  upon  their  new  life. 

On  the  morning  after  his  marriage,  Marshall  received  a  package 
from  the  President,  and  upon  opening  it,  found  that  it  contained  a  very 
flattering  appointment  under  the  Government,  which  the  President 
tendered  him  "in  return  for  his  gallant  services  in  the  field."  He  ac- 
cepted the  position,  and  still  retains  it.  He  has  not  recovered  from 
his  lameness,  and  never  will.  But  he  is  now'happy  in  his  own  home, 
and  in  the  society  of  his  charming  wife. 

•Mr.  and  Mrs.  Worthington  are  still  in  Richmond,  patiently  awaiting 
the  close  of  the  war,  when  they  can  return  to  their  home  in  old  Mary- 
land. 

Charlie  Worthington  went  through  the  glorious  campaign  in  the 
A'allcy  of  Virginia  under  Jackson,  and  is  now  a  Captain. 

All  parties  are  happy,  and  only  pray  for  a  just  and  honorable  peace, 
when  the  country,  for  which  they  have  sacrificed  so  much,  and  which 
they  love  so  well,  may  take  her  place  among  the  nations  of  the  world, 
a  free,  a  glorious  and  a  prosperous  nation. 

May  that  time  come  quickly. 


\Copyright  Secarcd.'\ 


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COLLECTION 


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